Handling The Pain
by Heartbreak Lane
Summary: "I can handle de pain, chere." He licks his upper lip, enjoying the taste of her still being there. Life has a cruel stroke when it comes to Rogue and come hell or high water, she's going to learn how to handle the pain.
1. Is Too

**AN: This is my first fan fic on and it's just going to be a one shot. Takes place sometime after X3.**

* * *

Clubs were never her thing.

She chalks it up to the uncomfortable amount of people that cram in together in every area they can. The dance floor is a sea of moving bodies that flows to the rhythm of the house music and the flashing lights is its pulse. Even the bar is crowded with people tipping back shots dressed in clothes her momma would never have approved of.

There is so much skin. _Too much skin._

She chooses the club anyways.

After the day she's had, she needs some hard liquor and she knows Logan is going to be checking her usual bar first.

She tries not to be bitter as she wonders if Bobby's looking for her at all.

"Your phone is ringing sweetie." The bartender is pointing at the outdated flip phone that's lighting up on the counter. She checks it, hits ignore.

To his credit, Bobby called.

"Ah'll have anothah, please."

She uses the fake ID that John had gotten for her back when he was living at the mansion. The three of them had went out for a night on town. Her chest aches when the memory comes to her.

The good old days.

Back when Jean, Scott and the Professor were still alive and her, Bobby and John were inseparable. Back before the shit had hit the fan and that stupid cure had ever been created.

She closes her eyes tight at the thought. It hurts inside her chest to think of it.

"Y' know, if y' hold dat face for too long its gone get stuck like dat."

Her eyes snap open at the voice that's far too close to her ear and she almost topples over from her stool as she instinctually jerks away from its owner, her eyes wide with fear.

The owner gives her a lopsided apologetic smile.

"Ain't gone hurt y' none, petite."

She takes his appearance in from head to toe. He's tall, much taller than her 5'5" frame. If she'd had to make a guess, she'd say at least 6 feet. She takes in the lean body he's covered with a worn in trench coat that she has a feeling has seen more than a few women's floors. His hair is a shaggy brown, almost auburn she thinks and it hangs close to his chin, framing his strong jaw. The most peculiar thing is the sunglasses he's wearing in the dark club.

Everything about him screams 'hurt' and 'heartbreak'.

"Ah know, ah'm sorry. Yah just scared me, s'all."

He takes the seat beside her, and she doesn't remember inviting him to.

He's giving her an amused smile but she can tell he's thinking about something, and she fights the urge to hug herself insecurely.

"What?" She finally asks, agitated that she can't see his eyes and he's being rude by staring.

"Mississippi." He states, waving the bartender down and ordering a drink. "Not too many people wit' dat thick of an accent up dis way chere. Y' visitin'?"

Her face scrunches in a way that she's sure is unattractive but she can't believe the audacity of this stranger stealing the seat beside her and talking to her like a close friend when all she wants to do is drink her problems away all by herself. She just stares at him like that for a moment, hoping he'll get the point and go away.

Instead he chuckles, and his next line infuriates her further.

"What'd Remy jus' tell you about y' face getting' stuck like dat?"

Her mouth opens slightly, and she closes it in defeat. He's obviously not going to go away, so instead she turns back to her beer at the bar, takes a gulp.

"Moved here about 2 years ago. What about yah?"

He seems pleased that she's taking part in his conversation, or maybe he just lights up when he gets to talk about himself, she's not quite sure.

"I'm from de great city o' New Orleans." He says, lifting his glass of bourbon as if he were to cheers to the city before taking a sip.

"Yah decided tah move here from New Orleans?"

He pauses for a moment before answering her. "Somet'in like dat."

Something in his voice tells her to not push the subject any farther. She hopes that he's decided she's not worth the small talk and he'll leave her alone because he's been quiet for 2 minutes now as she continues with her drink.

No such luck.

"S'funny."

"What's funny?" She asks, trying to hide the annoyance in her voice.

"Wouldn't picture you as a beer drinker, s'all."

"Ah'm not."

He raises an eyebrow and that amused smile is plastered on his face again, and when she meets his look he nods down to the beer bottle in her hand. When her face flushes slightly he finally realizes just how young she really looks. Her face is beautiful, undoubtedly, but it has almost a sense of innocence still painted across it. He licks his lip as his eyes skim over the rest of her, and the first thought that comes to him is that her body is anything _but innocent._

"Yah wouldn't understand."

There's something in her voice that doesn't seem right with that answer. Regret?

"Try me."

He watches the thought process play across her face and he's pretty sure she's going to answer him as she starts to open her mouth when a vibrating noise interrupts her.

Both of their eyes flash to the phone as it lights up and vibrates down the bar. She picks it up to look at the name, and with a sigh hits ignore.

"You hidin' from someone, chere?"

He's joking, but she looks slightly put out by his question. It reminds him of why he approached her in the first place. Sure, her looks had originally caught his attention while he flirted with the bartender on the other side of the bar but it was her sad demeanor that had lured him over to her side at the end.

He doesn't know why, but he doesn't like to see her sad.

His hand skims the small of her back lightly as he leans in to her ear, his mouth so close his breath tickles as he speaks and it makes her insides warm in a way that makes her cross her legs a little tighter.

"Remy knows a few good hidin' places, if y' are." His voice could be described as nothing but husky.

This time she is off of her stool, and he thinks he might of pushed a button because she looks _so angry_ that he thinks she may burst into tears any second.

"Stop doin' that!" She snaps, and he thinks he really does see tears fighting in the corner of her eyes. She opens her mouth to give him another lashing, but evidently decides against it because instead she's pulling a 20 out of her back pocket, slapping it on the bar with a gloved hand and storming off.

"Chere, wait!"

He doesn't know why he's following her, but he can't help but feel bad because he's made her feel worse when he could tell she was already feeling down. He grabs her wrist and she struggles slightly but finally stops to look at him and this time the amount of hurt floors him.

"I'm sorry." He says dumbly. He didn't know why he followed her, didn't know what he was aiming at. She'd made it perfectly clear she wasn't interested, and if he was in his right mind he'd be moving on to the next one who wouldn't be nearly as hard to get into his bed.

"What do yah want?" She sighs.

"Let me buy y' another drink. I feel awful for upsettin' y'."

She stares at him for a moment, and seemingly decides that he's being genuine because she's nodding as he leads her back to their abandoned stools. He motions for another round and she's looking down at her gloved hands in her lap when he looks back at her.

"Ah'm not." She says when their drinks arrive, and she pushes a white stripe behind her ear as she takes a sip.

"Not what?"

"Hidin' from someone."

It bothers him that he can't read her. He's usually very good at reading people, women in particular. Somehow this girl with the innocent face, womanly body and sad eyes has stumped even him.

"Den why y' drinkin' at de bar in a club all by y'self?" He knows he's already on thin ice, but he hopes she doesn't take it offensively.

She pauses and it's evident that she wants to tell someone.

She needs to tell someone.

Her chest aches.

"Ah'm a mutant."

She says it so quiet he thinks he heard her wrong so he waits for her to continue because he doesn't want to scare her off again.

"But ah got the cure." She's looking at him now and he can only guess that she's wondering if he's going to storm off at the revelation.

He doesn't.

"What was y' power?"

"Ah... mah skin, it would absorb people's memories, thoughts and even their…" She pauses to look at him, "life force and powers if they're a mutant, too. Ah couldn't control it."

It takes a moment to sink in.

"Merde, dat had t' of been a hard power t' deal with, petite. 'm sorry." He is.

He could swear he sees her lip quiver momentarily.

"The cure wore off today."

He suddenly realizes why she looked so sad since arriving. He understands why she looked so hurt, so angry when he'd gotten so close to her skin. He'd been being completely insensitive without even knowing it.

"Fuck."

It's all he can think to say.

She laughs at it.

He likes the sound of her laugh.

"Yeah, fuck." She agrees, nodding as she takes another swig. "Worst part is… ah'm not even sure if ah care that it came back, you know? When I got the cure…" she pauses, "ah'm not even sure if ah really did it for mahself."

He's happy she's seemed to open up to him now, seemed to trust him and found him worthy of talking about this too. He doesn't deserve it. He _wants_ to deserve it.

"How so?"

Another laugh, but he doesn't like this one as much because there's a sense of bitterness behind it.

"Mah boyfriend, he's a mutant too. Ah love him, and ah just wanted us tah be able to tah have a normal relationship, yah know? Ah thought if ah could touch he wouldn't cheat on me with mah own friend." She's looking back down at her gloves again. "He still did."

His jaw tightens, and he feels a sense of anger build in the pit of his stomach. He has to admit, the mention of having a boyfriend had disappointed him slightly but it was only filled with an intense anger that this boy could take for granted someone as physically stunning and generally pleasant to be around as her.

"Y' boyfriend is an imbecile."

She looks offended.

"No he ain't. It's… hard for him. He's young and we couldn't touch for so long a-"

"Non, he's absolument stupid if he cheated on y', chere."

"He is not!"

"Is t'."

"Is not!"

She notices that he's now shuffling cards in agitation. She wonders where he even got them from.

"Is."

"No he isn't! How dare yah even make such an assumption, yah have no idea what yah're talking about, he gave up a lot tah be with me when ah couldn't touch, and now ah cain't again and he's STILL with me, okay?!"

He tries to ignore how much thicker her accent gets when she's angry, and he _really _tries to ignore the thought of what her accent would sound like wrapped around his name if she had been as heated during other activities.

The speed of which he moves startles her as he's getting off his stool and shoving it away so quickly that she swears she's only blinked before he ripped her from her own stool and had her pinned between him and the bar. His face is so incredibly close and she can see he's so incredibly angry over their argument.

Good, because _she's angry too_.

"An' take off those damn sunglasses!" She snaps in his face.

His jaw clenches angrily. "Non."

She lets out a growl that Logan would be proud off, and she reaches out to rip them off his face herself.

She gasps.

His eyes are burning embers sitting on black coals. They're undeniably not human, and they are burning with an intense glow.

_They're absolutely beautiful_, she thinks.

She hasn't said anything and he's sure his eyes have disgusted her by now. He's bitter and angry now, no longer wanting to play the good guy. He listened to her and tried to make her feel better, but some people just didn't want to be helped.

That's why he did it.

Abruptly he grabbed her brown hair in his right hand, drawing her face towards his as he crushed her lips against his. When she lets out a startled cry he takes the opportunity to press his tongue past her lips, letting it dance with her own.

The kiss is angry and demanding and there's nothing sweet about the way his mouth moves over hers because he'll be damned if he doesn't leave a lasting memory. Her body feels hot and she knows Bobby's kisses had never been like this. Bobby's kisses are slow and sweet and this kiss is rough and exciting and she can't help but be completely turned on by the way he tastes of bourbon and cigarettes.

He feels the tug of what he can only assume is her power, and he pulls away from her to gasp for air. He can see the shock and disbelief in her face, but most of all he sees that she's panting too and it has absolutely nothing to do with her mutant abilities.

He doesn't hide the smug smirk.

"Mah power! Are you ok?" She looks concerned and even worse, guilty.

"I can handle de pain, chere." He licks his upper lip, enjoying the taste of her still being there.

But then it's her turn to surprise him as she grabs the lapels of his trench coat, pulling him down to her level and she doesn't have to prompt him to open his mouth for her as she kisses him with a whimper that sends chills through his body. He can't stifle a groan when he feels her warm body press harder into his, trying to extinquish some of the heat that's been building in her stomach.

The sound of her phone vibrating once again causes them to break apart although it came at good timing because he was starting to feel dizzy by that point anyways. He puts his hand on the bar to steady himself, her body still pinned between it and himself.

She hits ignore.

He meets her eyes.

"Like I said, he'd have t' be absolutely stupid t' cheat on y' chere. Even wit' y' powers, y' kiss is unbelievable." He says, cupping her chin in his gloved hand, giving her one more brief kiss.

He leaves a bill on the bar, gives her another glance and walks away, weaving through the sea of bodies and out of her line of sight.

She stands there dumb founded as her phone rings again. She touches her lips with a smile, and hits ignore.


	2. Paint

**AN: So inspiration struck and I've decided to continue with the story. It'll most likely be a dramatic angsty one, but then again most of the good Romy's are. Please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors, I don't have a beta. On a side note, Emma Frost will be in this fic and as a result to that, this fic will NOT follow the story line of First Class. Instead, it'll be canon to the original 3 films and X-Men Origins so Emma would be fairly close to Remy's age.**

**Please review!**

* * *

There is a woman still sleeping beside him in his bed when he wakes up and he sighs disapprovingly as he stretches. He never could stand when they didn't know proper one night stand etiquette. He can tell this one is going to be like so many of the others, who last night was all for 'just a night of fun' but this morning will be hanging around aimlessly, hoping her body had tamed him and that she'll get an invite back or even better a real date.

She won't.

He silently gets out of bed not bothering to pull on a pair of boxers as he heads to his en suite bathroom and turns on the shower. The hot steam fills the room and he steps under the spray of water to wash away the memories of last night.

It seemingly works, but it hasn't worked for the night he really wants to see swirl down the drain and out of his head.

_He feels the tug of what he can only assume is her power, and he pulls away from her to gasp for air. He can see the shock and disbelief in her face, but most of all he sees that she's panting too and it has absolutely nothing to do with her mutant abilities._

_He doesn't hide the smug smirk._

It has been at least six weeks since that incident with the stranger in the club and he's gone back so many times even he starts to think of himself as pathetic. He's always sitting at the bar drinking a few bourbons hoping to see a girl in the crowd whose name he hadn't even received.

By the second week he went, he decided to stop waiting and started flirting with the women who approached him. By the third week he realized he only took them home if they were brunettes.

That thought pissed him off.

This insecure girl who he'd only kissed on one occasion had burned herself in the back of his mind and never even returned to the club to do him the decency of giving him a _name._

He thinks he knows why she never went back.

It leaves a bad taste in his mouth even thinking about it.

She has a boyfriend.

A stupid, naïve boyfriend who doesn't even know how to handle a girl like _her_.

By the time he's toweling off he's annoyed that he even cares or thinks about this girl at all. It was one kiss that he'd only given her to prove a point. Besides, he had felt the effects of her powers first hand. Had she kissed him vigorously one more time he'd be out cold. He was a man with needs and even if he did see her again, nothing could come of it.

_Still,_

he never even got a name.

* * *

_Emma's memories are a bucket of paint. With every memory, she adds a drip of paint to her stir. It almost always appears white._

_It's only the really bad memories that drop a huge splatter of red in her paint and no matter how much of her beloved white she adds back in the red can never be removed, never erased._

_Three mile island._

_Hellfire._

_So many bad things. So many wrongs. _

**_Too much red paint._**

"Ah'm sorry."

It's the first thing she hears when she wakes up with a pounding head ache, slumped in her office chair. She groans, rubbing her head and realizes that Rogue's control had slipped after the first few minutes.

Rogue looks uncomfortable for having absorbed her mentor. Emma is uncomfortable because she knows Rogue has dipped her hands into her paint.

"It's ok. This is why we're working on it, right Rogue?" She won't tell her that helping her control her powers is the first selfless thing she's done since she's left the Hellfire club and joined the X-Men. She doesn't tell Rogue that by helping her she's adding more and more drips of white paint to her bucket, trying to erase the red.

Trying to get away from the awful things she's done.

"You held on for 8 minutes this time, Rogue. That's wonderful progress." She tries to keep the girl's spirits up. She doesn't have to read her mind to tell that the striped haired mutant is second guessing her efforts to earn control.

"Have you told Bobby about your progress?" She tries to encourage.

Rogue won't meet her eyes and she sees something flicker across her face for a brief moment before shaking her head no.

Raising a curious eyebrow, she tilts her head as she tries to sift through what Rogue is thinking.

_So much red. Can't forget the red. Why can't ah just forget the red._

Emma's breath catches. She likes to be in people's head but she certainly doesn't like the shoe on the other foot. The next thought relieves her, but also peaks her interest.

_Why'd he kiss me. Can't get those red eyes out of mah mind. Why'd he kiss me. Ah can't control this. Ah'll never control this._

"You _will _control your powers, Rogue."

Rogue's head snaps back up, her eyes wide as her mouth drops open slightly. "You… ah-" It's evident that Emma has been in her thoughts and she thinks she forgets how to breathe because she knows Emma knows that Bobby doesn't have red eyes.

"Your secrets are safe with me." She tells the younger girl, pretending the zip her lips and throw away the key.

Rogue nods dumbly, getting out of her chair. "Well um, thanks for the session Emma. Ah'll keep workin' on it." She says as she heads for the exit.

"Rogue,"

Rogue pauses with her hand on the knob, turns her head over her shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"He's right, you know?"

Emma sees the confusion paint itself over Rogue's face.

"Bobby is an idiot for cheating on you."

It has never been said that Emma Frost isn't blunt.

Rogue's blushing and nodding again as she fumbles out of the room closing the door behind her.

She sighs as she watches her leave the room and rubs her temples again. There's still too much red paint.

* * *

Rogue's training session with Logan runs late, and it causes her to arrive to dinner after everyone has already started eating. He's been training her solo because she was too rusty to be put back into team sessions in the danger room.

_Who would have ever thought ah'd actually miss doin' danger room sessions. _She thinks with a grin, finding the table where all her friends are sitting.

Bobby and Jubilee are laughing about something and Kitty is looking at Piotr's drawings when she sits down. Kitty notices her arrival first.

"Hey Rogue!" The petite girl greets her with a smile. "How'd your training session go?"

She gives them a 'you know how it is' grin with a slight shrug. "Ah'm certainly gonna be feelin' it tomorrow. But ah have good news, Logan said ah can start trainin' with y'all again next week."

Apparently Jubilee and Bobby's conversation had ended during her and Kitty's interaction because they're both paying attention to her and Bobby's concerned _or is that upset… _face is not nearly as nice as Jubilee's excited expression.

"Hell yeah!" The asian girl says in her usual rambunctious manner. "We'll have the gang all back together again. That session is going to be one for the books."

"You must be very excited, Rogue." Piotr says in what could only be considered his 'excited voice'. The boy has a very monotonous tone.

"I don't know. I mean, I'm happy that your training is going well, but do you think it's a good idea to start training with us again?" Bobby asks, trying to be delicate with the issue.

To their credit, Rogue's friends look almost as shocked as she does.

"Um, yes?" Was her only answer, but to be perfectly honest her tone couldn't hide her agitation for him even asking the question.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Jubilee butts in. "She was training with us perfectly fine before."

Bobby rubs the back of his neck, he hadn't thought he'd be ganged up on. "It's just that, you know, with you being off the team for so many months because you didn't have your power you probably won't be able to handle the level we are on in the danger room now. I mean, it's not a bad thing, it's to be exp-"

Her eyes flash dangerously, and she stands up leaning with her palms flat on the table.

"Bobby Drake are yah sayin' yah think ah won't be able tah _keep up_?" Her tone is venomous, her accent thickening with every word.

"Whoa Rogue, calm down I don't mean it like that. It's just that you took the cure at a time where we were all still learning, and that means you didn't have the chance to perfect the danger room with us." Bobby tries to convey that he's merely watching out for her.

Kitty gasps, and Jubilee scoots further away from the table as if she wants to remove herself from the tense situation before the next wave breaks. Piotr only closes his eyes, shaking his head slightly.

"Well ah'm sorry if mah timin' for takin' the cure was _inconvenient_ Bobby. Ah surely don't wanna hold y'all back." She says, before standing up straight and slamming her chair into the table before she storms off.

"Wow Bobby, that was totally insensitive." Kitty says with a disbelieving look.

Across the room, Emma watched the scene unfold with mild interest. She thinks she knows what Rogue needs to further her progress with her powers. Furthermore, she thinks she knows where to find it.

* * *

"Is this seat taken?"

Remy glances next to him at the woman posing the question to him. He notes that there's a slight accent to her voice _although not the accent he wants to hear, _and that she's undeniably gorgeous with her tall frame and her delicate bone structure. Her breasts are practically pouring out of her top and he's glad because

she's not a brunette.

"Non, help y'self. Can I get y' a drink?"

His mouth pulls into a lopsided grin and she can tell that this one is a charmer. This one doesn't get turned down easily, and he's hard to forget.

_She knows this first hand._

"Thank you, I'll have a glass of champagne."

He raises an eyebrow at her because this is an odd request for a club like this one, but never the less he orders it from the bartender who looks equally as confused but returns shortly after opening the bottle that never sees any action.

"I'm Emma." She holds a hand out to his to shake.

He takes it, kisses her knuckles and she rolls her eyes before he looks back up to meet them.

"Remy."

"I know."

Confusion crosses his face first, and then he sits up defensively.

"What y' here for, Emma?" There's no more playfulness in his voice and she's pretty sure he's done trying to flirt with her. She wants to read his mind, but it proves difficult.

"You."

He's not sure if she's trying to be seductive or if she's been sent here to take him, but he's got his cards in his hand in a moment, shuffling them defensively as he watches her.

"I am quite de catch." It's a line, but there's no huskiness in his voice. He doesn't trust her.

"Remy," she smiles sweetly, "I'm not here for any trouble."

"Den again, why y' here?"

"You're a mutant."

He pauses in his shuffling. This girl is definitely trouble. He considers blowing up the bar so he can distract her while he escapes.

"I'm a mutant too. Telepath." She turns back to the bar, sipping her champagne. "You can stop being so defensive, I've already told you I'm not here for any trouble."

"Does dis story get to a certain point, chere?"

Chere.

It doesn't sound so sweet when he's saying it to _her._

"I'm just here to give you an opportunity, Remy." Emma's looking at him again and she pulls out a white pen to write on her napkin. She slides it over to him.

It's an address written under her loopy cursive.

Xavier's school for gifted youngsters.

He snorts.

"Ain't got no kids, chere."

"Have you ever heard of the X-Men, Remy?" She's not even looking at him anymore. She looks bored by their conversation.

"Oui."

"Have you ever thought of becoming one?" She asks in her delicate accent.

He's silent for a moment as he looks at her, wondering if she's serious. The X-Men are 'good guys'. Modern day super heroes, if you will.

He's not a good guy.

_Nobody ever taught him how to be good._

"Non."

She's getting off her stool now, grabbing her purse. "Well, if you do."

It's all she says as she turns and leaves. He's completely confused as to what had just taken place as he looks back down at the napkin. He doesn't know what makes him do it, but he stuffs the napkin in his pocket anyways.

There's a noticeable difference in the air as she exits the club. No more heat and alcohol and lust to breathe in. Instead it's replaced by cool New York weather.

She heads to her car and smiles as she gets in.

She adds a little more white in her paint.


	3. Danger Room

**AN: So far setting the foundation for our story. I have a few ideas in what direction I want to go, but it's still at a tentative spot. I'm a little discouraged by the lack of reviews :( hope people are enjoying the story.**

* * *

She doesn't talk to Bobby for five days.

She reasons that she's being immature, yes, but she can't help but be angry about what he had said. She makes sure to push herself to the max during her and Logan's solo training sessions. She's going to prove that she won't fall behind in the team sessions.

She _can't_ fall behind in the team sessions.

Because if she falls behind, it'll just be another way to prove that the cure had done nothing good for her. All it did was give her false hopes of bettering her relationship and alienate herself from her team mates.

She's brought back to the present when the wind is knocked out of her. A painful wheeze escapes her chest as she rolls to the side to evade a kick to the ribs. She sputters for a mouthful of air before pushing herself back onto her feet.

"That was a cheap shot." She says jokingly, holding her gut.

Logan just gives her a grin as he grabs his towel to wipe his brow. "Not my fault you weren't payin' attention darlin'. _You _were the one who told me not to go easy on ya." He leans against the wall as they talk. "It'd probably be easier to pay attention if you weren't concentratin' so hard on proving the ice cube wrong."

She sputters for a moment. "Ah, but, ah mean…." She gives him an empty glare. "How'd yah know about that?"

He lets out a low chuckle and approaches her, ruffling her hair. "Kids gossip Rogue, and with hearin' like mine you don't even _want_ to know half the things I find out about." His voice is full of amusement.

Ducking her head out from under his hand she laughs. "Yeah, yah are probably right. Ah'm sure ah _don't _want to know." She makes it to the door before she feels his heavy hand on her shoulder.

"I'm here if you need me, Rogue. You know that, right?" Logan doesn't do sentiment well, and she can't help but feel touched that he feels the need to.

"Ah know." Her brows are furrowed as she looks at him.

"I know it's got to be hard with the return of your powers. I'm sure it's not what you wanted. But for whatever it's worth, I'm here if you want to talk."

Logan's always been there. Since the day he found her as a runaway hitching a ride in the back of his van he's done nothing but be her rock and crying shoulder. Whether it was settling into the mansion, the whole Ellis Island incident, or even her doubts about her powers Logan had _always_ been there for her.

She feels a sense of guilt sweep over her.

She'd been taking the cure when he needed _her_ to be there for _him._

"Ah'm sorry ah wasn't there to help, Logan. With Jean, ah mean." It's the first time she's addressed it since the tragedy. She doesn't know why she never did. "Ah should have never taken the cure. Ah should have been there tah help my team mates, tah help you."

To say he hadn't expected her to turn this around on him would be an understatement.

"Don't worry about it kid. There's nothin' you could have done to change the outcome. I'm kinda glad you weren't there, you might have got hurt." He's itching for a cigar right about now, and she can tell the conversation is making him a little bit antsy.

"Logan?"

"Yeah kid?"

"Do yah think ah'll prove him wrong?" She asks, if for no other reason than to change the subject.

A smirk plasters itself across his face. "Yeah Rogue, I do. But I don't think you should have to, either."

* * *

He stops going to the club.

He's decided to stop thinking about her _at all._

Instead, he throws himself into work. New York's a magical city, and magic doesn't come without a price. He takes odd jobs here and there to pay his rent and support his expensive habits.

_Odd jobs of the criminal nature._

It's why he's parked outside of an abandoned warehouse. _Feels so cliché_, he thinks with a smirk. Of course his employers would want to meet at a 'discreet area to discuss the details of your employment'. To him, the morally corrupt people of New York he does business for are much more naïve than those from New Orleans.

Taking one last drawl from his cigarette, he snuffs it out under his boot and looks at his watch impatiently. He hears a distinct 'click' before he hears the voice.

"You're early." The voice isn't complimenting him, nor does it sound amused or enthralled in any way whatsoever.

Pushing off from his leaning position on the wall he looks over at the person addressing him. He ignores the boy's statement with a shrug.

"You John?"

He thinks the boy is grinding his teeth.

"Pyro."

"Whatever. You de person I'm supposed t' meet with?"

John or Pyro he corrects himself, _whatever_, nods and stops approaching him when they're close enough to talk. He realizes the clicking noise came from the kid's zippo lighter that he's still opening and closing.

"Yeah. How much did they tell you?"

Remy's growing annoyed by this point. It's obvious that Pyro isn't the person in charge and it's also evident that he's not nearly as efficient at handling his bosses business as he should be. Either way, he knows not to bite the hand that feeds him so he appeases him with an answer.

"Just dat I was needed for m' particular set of skills for procuring somet'ing they wants." He continues, "Didn't tell me what or where. S'pose dat'd be your job, non?"

Pyro actually lets a grin cross his face by this point. Apparently he's decided he likes Remy.

"Yeah, that'd be my job." His voice is amused, "So we'll be attending-"

Remy cuts him off right there. "I'm sorry, _we? _Gambit works alone." Involving other people just makes room for things to get messy.

Surprisingly, this little interruption doesn't ruin Pyro's newly found good mood.

"Yeah, _we_. Don't worry man I'm not going to be following you around while you grab the shit, I'm just going to be the distraction." Something crosses his face that Remy places as amused, maybe even anticipation.

"Distraction?" This is an interesting turn on what he expected to be a heist job.

Pyro pulls out a cigarette and lights it before inhaling. He lets out a smoky breath and nods. "Yeah. Like I was saying, you're going to need a distraction during this job because we'll be attending a fundraiser with a shit ton of important people."

"I'm good at not bein' noticed, mon ami. Dat's kind of why they call me a _professional._"

"Look, I'm not going to sit here and argue with you, ok? If I tell you you're going to need a distraction, just fucking trust me." Pyro seems to be getting impatient with him, running his free hand through his hair. "There's going to be a specific group there to insure that shit like _this_" he refers to their job "doesn't go down."

He's still not sold. He's pretty sure Pyro isn't going to do anything but cause him trouble and maybe even cost him this job. "I'm not worried about security, if dat's what y' getting' at."

"This isn't just _security, _'mon ami'," he actually smirks at Pyro's impersonation of his accent, "it's the fucking X-Men. Maybe you've heard of them."

His eyebrows lift, Pyro finally saying something that has actually caught his interest. If this job was so important that even the 'notorious X-Men' were going to be involved in making sure it didn't happen, it sure as hell was going to be worth the money.

"Alright John," he catches the pointed glare, "desole, _Pyro_, tell me de details."

* * *

She's so anxious she thinks she may vomit the day of their group danger room session. She's so determined to prove Bobby wrong that the mere thought of her messing up cause's knots to bunch in her stomach. She's gotten there early, waiting with Piotr inside the metal chamber.

They're talking about Piotr's upcoming trip back home when the doors open with a distinct swoosh. Logan enters with Bobby, Kitty, Ororo and Jubilee following behind.

Piotr helps her up on to her feet where she dusts her pants off just to busy herself with something other than looking at Bobby.

"Alright first things first, Rogue's back on the team." Logan says cutting straight to the chase. "Secondly we're gonna run the Juggernaut sim." There's a collective sea of protests and groans, seemingly unhappy with his choice. He raises an eyebrow at the kids that shuts them up immediately.

Ororo tries to hide her amused smile as she addresses them. "Right, so today we're going to go ahead and let Logan run the control room and I'll be supervising down here. Kitty, you'll be team leader."

Kitty looks flattered and she even blushes a little bit. "Me? But Bobby's usually team leader."

"Yes, but what's going to happen if at one point Bobby gets stuck in an indisposition where he can't be there to lead the team? We're going to have to train you to know what to do when that happens." Ororo had a good point.

"Besides, you've already taken the Juggernaut down once before." Ororo gives Kitty a wink with a proud smile. That seems to be all the reassuring Kitty needs.

"Right. Okay, awesome." Kitty lets out a nervous laugh. "Let's do this then!"

* * *

Half an hour into their sim the team was barely still holding up. Piotr had an unconscious Jubilee thrown over his shoulder while he crouched beside Bobby behind a medical table in the government holding facility that the Juggernaut was currently broken out of. They'd been separated from Kitty and Rogue since the first half of their 'mission'.

"Ok, there's got to be something in here we can use for Jubilee." Bobby said, getting up and looking through the cupboards. "She's still out, right?"

Piotr nodded at him, setting Jubilee down on the table.

* * *

Rogue panted as she ran to keep up with Kitty, clutching the smaller girl's hand as they ran through the walls. She slid to a halt abruptly in one of the rooms, causing Kitty to jerk back into her in surprise.

"What is it?!" Kitty asked in shock. They'd finally lost the Juggernaut when they phased to the lower level of the building but they were still trying to find their other team mates. She followed Rogue's line of sight to the row of computer monitors along the wall.

"Aren't you supposed tah be lahke, some computer genius?" she asked her, a grin spreading across her face as an idea came to mind. Kitty didn't seem to grasp it, her face contorting in confusion.

"Yeah but what does that-", realization dawned on the lithe mutant's face, and she dove right into the rolling chair, pulling up the security system screens. She typed maniacally until she could see all of the security camera's views.

"There are the others, let's go find them!" Kitty said, pointing to the view of the medical room where they were currently looking through the cabinets. She got up and grabbed Rogue's hand.

"Kitty wait," she pulled her to a stop again. "Ah've got anothah idea. If yah trust me, that is."

Kitty looked at her for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah Rogue, I totally trust you."

* * *

Jubilee gasped, shooting upright. "Oh man, that's GNARLY! What the hell Bobby!" She coughed, waving her hand in front of her face. "Man, my head." She whined, rubbing her forehead.

Bobby sighed in relief, throwing the smelling salts Piotr had found in the cabinet away. "You've been out for almost the whole mission. Juggernaut threw you into a Piotr."

Piotr rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I was in my metal form. I'm sorry."

"We've better go find Rogue and Kitty. Come on," Bobby helped Jubilee off the table.

* * *

"As if you could even catch me, you big jerk!" Kitty shouted as she ran from the Juggernaut, looking over her shoulder. She ran into the adjacent wall, coming to a halt on the furthest side of the room.

Breaking through the wall the Juggernaut grinned at Kitty who had seemed to run out of steam. "That's a lot of talk for such a small package. " He picked up a nearby writing desk and held it high above him, "Although, it isn't so much your size rather than what you do with it!"

"Sure ain't." Rogue said, phasing up through the floor behind him. He'd barely registered the new addition when her hand reached from behind him and grabbed his face until he lost consciousness.

"YES!" Kitty clapped excitedly. "My first lead mission and we totally kicked ASS!" The two girls high five as the scene around them fades back to the bare metal room.

"Language Kitty." Ororo chastised lightly as she approached them with a smile. "But in all seriousness, great job."

"Whoa, you mean while I was passed out cold thanks to tin can over here" Jubilee stuck a thumb in Piotr's direction, "you two took the Juggernaut down by yourselves?"

The doors swooshed open and Logan entered.

"Good team work you two." He addressed an elated Kitty and Rogue.

"I mean, to be totally honest, it was Rogue's idea." Kitty said bashfully.

"Yes, but a good team leader knows when to take a team mate's advice." Ororo said. "You're all dismissed."

As everyone began to shuffle out of the room Bobby asked Rogue to stay behind and finally she listened to him.

"Look, I just wanted to say I really am sorry about what I said at dinner the other night. It was stupid. Really stupid, and really insensitive." The genuine look of regret was painted across his face, his icy blues watching her for a reaction.

She sighed, nodding.

"It's okay Bobby. Ah'm sorry too, ah overreacted a little bit." She smiled, "Ah know yah didn't mean it that way."

He looked happy that she apologized also, and for a moment the thought crossed her mind of whether he apologized to make her feel better or to make _himself_ feel better. She shoved it away when he took her gloved hand in his, kissing their linked fingers.

Her heart fluttered.

"So, does this mean you'll be my date to the fundraiser?" Bobby grinned at her, because it was settled months ago when they heard about Warren Worthington Jr.'s fundraiser that they would go 'together', even though it was technically work.

She grinned. "Ah suppose ah can do the honor of gracin' yah with mah presence." They laughed as he led her out of the danger room.


	4. People Change

**AN: I just wanted to say thank you to my reviewers on the last chapter. It was really encouraging to know that people really are enjoying the story, and I really appreciate everyone's input seeing as it is my first published fic (on this name). As the tale spins itself, I hope it draws in more readers. **

**bologna121 –One of the things you wanted to see will start in this chapter, and another in the next ;) Your review was very encouraging, and as an avid Romy reader I totally understand what you mean about people being wary of the work not being finished.**

**ishandahalf – Um. Sigh. Fan girl moment. Thanks for your review :D it means a lot especially from you, because I know you've been around the Romy scene just as long as I have. **

**And also a thank you to tenchi13 and LivGreenGarden.**

* * *

The rest of the week goes on as normally as it can for a school full of mutants who shadow as costumed vigilantes, as Jubilee likes to put it. They have two more team sessions throughout the week both of which a different person was appointed as team leader. It isn't until Saturday that they finally get a break from training and school lessons for those still attending.

"You know, it's really convenient for Bobby that Piotr decided to visit his family this week." Jubilee jokes as they're en route to Warren, otherwise known to them as Angel's, event. "You know, since he's going to walk in looking like a total stud with all these girls surrounding him."

Kitty lets out an amused giggle, and even Rogue can't help but smile when Bobby jokingly yawns and puts his arms around Jubilee and herself.

"Who would of ever thought that the X-**Men **would predominantly be X-**Women**?" Jubilee continues with her current thought.

Bobby rolls his eyes by this point, removing his arm from Jubilee's shoulder. "It's really not that uneven. There's me, Logan and Piotr and then you, Rogue, Kitty and Storm. Emma's not technically on the team so it's barely uneven."

"Yeah and besides if it weren't for John just upping and like, joining the baddies we'd still be even." Kitty points out.

Rogue feels Bobby tense as she looks over at him. The corner of her mouth rises slightly in what might be a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah well, people change."

She nods absently to agree with his statement. It's true, people change every day. John had certainly changed. He went from being Bobby's lively if not eccentric best friend and roommate who'd give Rogue a hard time jokingly when she stole Bobby away for 'date night' to being a dark, angry version of himself.

He'd changed from John Allerdyce to Pyro.

She wondered if he'd ever even missed them at all.

* * *

The fundraiser was being held on the upper floor of Worthington Towers which was Warren's primary living quarters. Once the elevators opened, guests were led down a long hallway to a large, open ballroom. People were mingling and eating passed hors d'oeuvres.

"I don't get it." Kitty says quietly on the walk down the hall. "I thought like, it was Warren's dad who had all the money, you know? I figured after everything that went down between him and Warren that he'd be cut off."

"He was." Logan said gruffly. "Warren inherited his parents' money and company after they came up dead."

"Jeez, way to rip the band aid off Wolvie." Jubilee muttered, the news putting a sad damper on her mood.

The sight of all the people that were attending made Rogue uncomfortable as she found herself pulling at her upper arm length gloves. She jerked slightly when Bobby put a reassuring hand on her lower back. She smiled apologetically when he frowned.

"Okay X-Men," Ororo said turning to look at them once inside the event, "feel free to mingle and enjoy yourselves as normal guests but just do remember that we _are _here as a personal favor to Warren. These… things tend to draw a bit of bad attention lately. Keep an eye out and be readily available should anything, god forbid, unfold."

By 'things' she really meant any function that was held either by or for a mutant.

This one was both.

The young mutants nodded their agreements and seemingly appeased, both Logan and Ororo left to mingle and talk amongst the other guests.

"Wow, this is some really fancy shin dig he's throwing." Jubilee let out a low whistle, taking in the whole scene.

The lighting had a warm ambiance to it, dim and amber-like shining upon the draped walls and high ceilings. Classy, quiet music played as background noise amongst the chatter, eating and dancing of the guests.

"It's really nice that he's doin' this, yah know?" Rogue thought aloud. "Matchin' whatever anyone donates. That's incredibly generous of him."

"What exactly is he raising money for?" Kitty asked, slightly embarrassed.

"He's openin' 'The Morlock Manor'. It's this big buildin' just inside the city that's gonna offer free housin' tah mutants with physical mutations who cain't, _or won't_, be hired tah work." Her voice trailed to disappointed disgust towards the end.

"Wow." Kitty said in awe. "That is _really_ nice of him. That just made him like, five hundred times cuter then he already was."

"Amen girlfriend." Jubilee said high fiving the giggling mutant girl.

Bobby chuckled, taking Rogue's hand. "Do you want to dance, Rogue?" He asked her quietly.

She bit her lip, regarding the area that guests had apparently designated as a dancing area. It was full of people swaying in their freshly pressed suits and long silk gowns. Above all else, she noticed that it was crowded and a terrible, terrible idea for her to enter with so much skin exposed.

"Um, ah don't think so." She said apologetically, trying not to read into the expression his face gave away to her answer.

"I will." Kitty offered cheerfully. "I mean, if it's like ok with you, Rogue." She added, not wanting to step on anyone's toes.

_Laughter floated in through the thin glass of her window. Curiously, she closed her book getting up from her lounging position on her bed. It took her exactly twenty seconds to take in the sight below her._

_It made her breath catch._

_Kitty swirled to a stop, her arms wrapped around Bobby's torso as she let out an uplifting laugh. Even when being clumsy, Kitty had a certain grace about her that made her movements remind Rogue of a dance. _

_She watched them for a few more minutes as they continued their swirling dance atop the make shift ice skating rink that Bobby had undoubtedly made. It wasn't until they paused, leaning in for a kiss that she finally tore herself away from the window before the hot tears could fall._

_She would take the cure._

"No, that's fine. Go ahead." She answered, caught off guard. "Ah think ah'm gonna go say hi tah Warren, anyways."

It's only when she walked away that she registered the face that Bobby had made.

Indifference.

He had _expected_ her to say no.

* * *

"Oh, so you _do _clean up nice." Pyro taunted when their private car picked Gambit up on one of the street corners.

Remy just flashed him a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Gambit's flattered dat y' noticed, and he hate t' break it t' y' Pyro, but he don't swing dat way." He pulled an apologetic look as he put a sincere hand over his heart.

Pyro rolled his eyes, getting trapped in his own joke. "Whatever. Something does look different, though." He can't put his finger on it.

Remy just chuckled, giving him a non committal shrug as they rode in silence for a few minutes. He idly started shuffling his cards as he stared out the window.

"Do you seriously have to do that right now?" His companion asked in frustration after a few minutes of his ministrations.

"I'll tell y' what, I'll stop shuffling de cards once y' stop flickin' dat damn lighter of yours every two minutes, semble bon?"

Pyro let out a low chuckle, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his legs. "So, how do you plan on stealing it, anyways?"

"Wit' style, Johnny boy, wit' style."

* * *

"It's really great the work you've been doing for the mutant community, Warren." Ororo says sincerely as she places a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Now that you've come out publicly as a mutant, it's a small start to showing our kind in a good light."

Warren smiles in a way that makes his face appear even more devastatingly handsome then it already was. It's a warm, happy smile that reaches all the way to his eyes. He turns and embraces Ororo, happy to see her.

"I think it's important for mutants, especially those with physical mutations, to know that there's a safe place for them to go, to be accepted." He smirks at her, "I mean all of those who aren't already running to join your X-Men."

"Even our mansion can't hold as many mutants as we'd like to help. The Morlock Manor is going to be a blessing to our kind." She untangles herself from his arms with an amused grin, taking a sip of her champagne.

"Are yah gonna be hoggin' Warren's attention all night?" The familiar twang of Rogue's accent catches the duo's attention.

"Rogue!" Warren greets her with open arms, taking in her long gloves. "Yours finally wear off?" He tries to pose the question delicately; to the point she can almost sense his regret in the small part his mutation had in the cures creation.

She gives him a small shrug, not wanting to make a big deal about it. Instead she lies, "Didn't feel right without 'em anyways."

Ororo has seemed to have moved on by this point, joining Logan over by the open bar where he seems to have taken up residence. Rogue and Warren's conversation continues on casually. She tells him she's sorry about his parents, he asks her about how her training is going.

"So how's it feel tah have the cat outta the bag?" She rubs hers gloved finger tips down the side of his exposed wings.

_Such a beautiful mutation._

"Liberating."

_Oh, yeah._

She remembers that feeling. It's the same one she had when she abjured her own mutation.

She flashes her pearly whites, removing her hand from the delicate white feathers. "Ah'm happy for yah."

* * *

The look on Pyro's face when he told him to drive around the block four more times before entering the building makes him chuckle on his ride up the elevator. _"T' avoid suspicion dat we're t'gether. Especially seein' as y' already checked me out." _He'd told him.

He's led straight from the elevator to the large ballroom, not that this fact surprises him. He knows better than anyone what leaving unattended guests will do in a place like this. It doesn't stop him from appreciating the artwork as he passes, maybe for future reference.

He had told Pyro he was good at 'not being noticed', but his technique was precisely the opposite. To pull off a heist during an event of this magnitude it was in his best interest to mingle and be seen by several, catching the attention of a few, to trick them into being possible alibis if need be.

He was twirling a blonde strand of hair that belonged to his newest possible alibi when it caught his eye.

When _she_ caught his eye.

At first, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He had to blink twice, before registering that the striped haired mutant was really there. He took in the sight of her, from her tousled locks and pale skin, to the jade green shade of her dainty, long chiffon dress that's thin straps pulled back into a racer back, which left the most delicious triangles of skin from the cut of the dress to the top of her upper arm length gloves.

Without excusing himself from his (now unlikely) alibi, he started approaching her. She'd found her way under his skin weeks ago and wouldn't leave. His usual smirk started to spread across his face when he stopped, eyes narrowing only slightly.

She was laughing, running her fingers admiringly over white feathered wings.

Smiles were exchanged. Words were shared.

_"Mah boyfriend, he's a mutant too."_

Her fingers traced his fucking white feathered wings.

_"Ah thought if ah could touch he wouldn't cheat on me with mah own friend. He still did."_

**_Merde._**

With money like Warren Worthington, no wonder she hadn't left him.

His prior route abandoned, he turned to the nearest waiter and took a glass of champagne. He was going to need it.

_He never even got her name._

* * *

During her conversation with Warren, Rogue glanced around to see where her friends had gotten off too.

Ororo was talking to a family with a teenage daughter whose body was sprouting something that looked similar to bones.

Jubilee had grabbed a glass of champagne, tilting her head back to sip it just as Logan snatched it out of her hands from behind with what Rogue could only decipher as 'maybe in a few years'.

Remy was drinking a glass of champagne and looking in her direction.

Bobby and Kitty were still-

_Hold up._

Her head whipped back to the familiar southern mutant looking, no, _glaring_ in her direction. Her mouth dropped open slightly, surprise writing itself across her face. She doesn't even know if Warren understood her 'excuse me', but before she knew it her feet were carrying her in his direction.

* * *

He noticed the way her mouth dropped open in a perfect 'o' when her eyes fell on him. He tried to push very vivid thoughts of what he'd like to do with _that face_ out of his mind, not bothering to look away when she noticed him.

_Come t' me, petite._ His eyes challenged her.

It wasn't lost on him the way she made her way to him, deliberately avoiding even the slightest bump into another guest. The look on her face was one of confusion, as if she didn't know if it was even him. Her eyes scrunched, shaking her head and he had to take four quick strides to grab her gloved wrist as she turned to go back the way she came.

"S'me, chere." He purred into her ear, not moving away when her face turned back to look at him. He enjoyed the sharp intake of breath she took.

"Your eyes."

He looked confused for a moment, not quite understanding.

_Oh._

_"Whatever. Something does look different, though." Pyro looked at him like he couldn't put his finger on it._

He'd almost forgotten the silver watch on his left hand that makes his red on black eyes appear brown. He motioned to the watch with a grin.

"Dat why you run 'way from me, petite? Thought you was imaginin' me?"

He _likes_ that she second guessed herself. Makes him think that maybe he'd gotten under her skin just a little bit too.

Maybe she's been thinking about him too.

Then again, she never came back.

She pulls her wrist out of his grasp gently, and he lets her. He sticks his hands in his pockets, waiting for her to say something. After all, _she_ came to _him _this time. The thought delights him.

"Whatchu wearin' somethin' like that for?" Her face scrunches up, her southern accent not hiding her obvious disapproval for the device.

He lets out a low chuckle, finishing the last sip of his champagne. "Sometimes m' eyes unnerve people. Don't need nobody gettin' _unnerved_ by Remy t'night." She tries not to stare when he licks his lip after he says it.

_Don't want t' stand out too much._ Is what he would tell her, if he were being completely honest.

"There's a girl with bones stickin' outta her body, sugah. Ah'm pretty sure yah eyes ain't gonna make that big of a splash." She drawls, jutting her hip out to the side and putting a hand on it.

He shrugs indifferently, looking at his watch. He really doesn't have time to be side tracked right now. He really doesn't want to walk away from her so quickly this time.

"Take a walk wit' me, chere?"

She doesn't know if she's just over reacting, but she could swear the man has a voice that's only meant to be murmuring blissfully into her ear under the sheets. Her face flushes at this thought, clenching and unclenching her hands. She takes a look over her shoulder.

Bobby takes Kitty's hand, leading her out onto the terrace after they finally tired of dancing. He's smiling down at her affectionately. The way he used to look at _her._

_"Yeah well, people change."_

She looks back at Remy.

"Lead the way."


	5. Instead He Says

**AN: Okay, fair warning you guys: this chapter is ****_extremely _****busy and bounces back and forth to different characters within the same time frame. There is tons of action in this chapter and while it may be a lot to take in for one chapter, it's only just a small portion of what's going to unfold in this story line.**

**Like I've said before, I have no beta reader so ****_please_**** excuse all spelling and grammatical errors that I'm sure I've missed despite all of my re-reads. Thanks for your previous reviews and please, please leave your input on this chapter! Enjoy.**

* * *

Pyro didn't catch sight of Gambit once he entered the ballroom. _Good,_ _then this shouldn't take too long. _He mused, not sure of just how long he'd be able to put up with this kind of atmosphere. He knew for certain that the X-Men would be at full attention once spotting him.

He smirks.

_Rematch, anyone?_

* * *

The terrace is much less crowded than inside the ballroom. Other than a few tall space heaters to help shield against the chilly New York air, there are only a few tall tables with no stools to hold drinks and ash trays.

"Thanks for the dance." Kitty says in her small voice that always seems to be layered with some acute amount of amusement. She glances at the tray of hors d'oeuvres that pass but decides against sampling anything because she can't tell if the stuffed pastries are vegetarian or not. "Looks like tonight is going to turn out alright, huh?"

Bobby nods with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He leans on the railing of the terrace, looking out over the twinkling city. "Hopefully it's a sign that things are going to start calming down in the media. Everything's been so crazy since…" he trails off.

"Since Jean?" Kitty offers, finishing his train of thought. When he nods she adds, "If you ask me, everything's been different since the Professor passed away."

There's something different in her voice now, the amusement long gone. He places the tone as one of longing, maybe hope. It's this that makes Bobby turn and look at her to find that she's staring right back at him with an indistinct look in her eyes. The meaning behind her words isn't lost on him.

What she was really saying was

_Everything's been different since our kiss._

What he wants to say is

_I feel the same way._

"Things will go back to normal eventually." Is what he says instead.

She averts her eyes, looking over at the other guests mingling on the terrace. She nods as a sense of guilt sinks in for even indirectly bringing up the incident that's been weighing heavy in the back of her mind for far too long now.

"Yeah, it's probably best that way."

* * *

"Where are we goin'?"

She lets Remy lead her towards the entrance of the ballroom, and it's only when he stops to wait for the newest guests to enter and he exits into the hallway heading in the opposite direction of the elevator that she finally asks where he's leading her to.

He spares a smirk over his shoulder, still clutching her gloved hand in his as he walks briskly. When he speaks to her she thinks she senses a tinge of mischief in his tone.

"Y' told me t' lead de way petite, so dat's what I'm doin'."

"Yeah well, ah thought yah were gonna be leadin' me _tah the exit_."

She fumbles slightly when his hand braces her stomach at an abrupt stop, holding her back from continuing their current path. She ignores the heat she can feel emitting from his palm through the thin fabric, and instead shifts into a state of annoyance.

"Swamp rat, are yah _tryin'_ tah get us in trouble?"

"_Swamp rat?_" He lets out a laugh at this one, taking her hand again as he resumes leading the way when he decides that the threat of being caught has passed. The sound of his laugh makes a small smile spread across her face, and she too lets out a little chuckle over the nickname.

"Well yah _are_ from the bayou, so yah said."

"Jus' didn't know we were at de pet names stage yet. Glad t' know we're getting serious." He wiggles his eyebrows at her which warrants him a punch in the arm that he rubs dramatically. "Hey now, you're de one lettin' another homme steal y' attention from y' boyfriend at his own event. Can't help it if Remy gets de impression y' like him more."

Her eyebrows knit together and she's about to ask what in the Sam Hill is he talking about when she registers what he is implying.

"So is _that_ why yah were glarin' daggers at me earlier?" She pulls her hand from his to place on her hip as they finally come to a stop in front of a closed door.

He shrugs indifferently, trying the handle and is surprised to find it unlocked. _Didn't need de lock picks after all. _His reply comes as he enters the room.

"Remy was jus' surprised y' are still wit' yo' foolish ami."

"Not that it's any of yah business, but Warren ain't mah boyfriend." Her voice is defiant, daring him to say something else that will push her buttons. She considers turning around and heading back to the function which really is what she ought to do.

He raises a skeptical eyebrow, turning to look at her again. "Y' looked awfully friendly t' me."

"Yeah, friends typically do."

He chuckles at her sarcasm, nodding in agreement. "Got me dere, petite. Desole, y' know what dey say about when y' assume."

Her stance relaxes and she's wearing a shy smile again, finally taking a look around the room. It appears to be some kind of art gallery with paintings on all of the walls, and display cases placed throughout the open floor. She finds the light switch and flicks it on and the area is flooded by light illuminating all of the artwork and artifacts.

"Wow."

"S' magnifique, non?"

"How'd yah know this was here?" She asks, trailing her gloved fingers over the top of a display case.

He watches her with a close eye while following her amongst the display cases. "Guess y' could say I'm a bit of an… art enthusiast. Read about Warren Worthington Sr.'s collection once." He shrugs.

* * *

Pyro's face quickly contorts into one of anger with an after taste of annoyance and impatience when he feels someone abruptly grab his arm and jerk him into looking at them. It's quickly replaced with a sly grin when he comes face to face with Logan.

"What're you doin' here, kid?" Logan lets him pull his arm out of his grasp and if the gruff mutant's tone had any effect on him, he certainly doesn't show it.

"Well, I _was_ waiting in line to get a drink before someone rudely interrupted." His reply comes back with an effortless air of casualness to it. "But now I have a feeling I'm going to be putting up with your shit." He adds, taking a step closer to look into the other man's eyes.

Logan doesn't take the bait. He won't start a scene if there doesn't need to be one, but he doesn't step back from Pyro's advance either. "Magneto with you?"

He lets out an actual laugh in disbelief, now stepping back as he reaches into his pocket to search for something. "You serious?"

"I asked you, didn't I?"

"Magneto doesn't even have powers anymore, _Wolverine. _Don't be stupid. After all, you and your fuzzy blue friend had everything to do with it, didn't you?" The fiery mutant finds what he's looking for, pulling out his lighter to flick it open and close with a taunting look.

"Cure ain't permanent and I know you know that, kid. So if Magneto's here, you best tell me before I _make_ you tell me." Logan's done with this back and forth and he's got better things to do then play nice with the fire starter.

"He isn't here." He spits the words at him, bitter. "Not everyone is as lucky as your _precious Rogue_. I'm gonna get a drink now, so kindly fuck off." He dismisses him with the wave of a hand, walking off.

* * *

"Y' never gave me y' name, chere."

They'd been quiet for so long, taking in all of the intricate artwork that when his voice finally breaks the silence from his spot across the room it jolts her a little bit. Never the less, she doesn't miss a beat before plastering on a bashful smile.

"Yah never asked."

"I'm askin' now." His voice is close now, right beside her even. She turns her head to the right and it verifies that he's standing only a few inches away and he's staring at her expectantly from his leaning position on the wall. She hadn't even heard him move.

"It's Rogue."

A devilish smile graces his features, and he pushes himself off the wall to walk towards a different case. "It suits y'." Is all he says.

"How's that?" She asks curiously, following him.

"Found you sittin' alone at a bar in a club, yet y' didn't want no company and y' certainly didn't want t' be picked up. Non, y' were perfectly content t' be drinkin' on y' own and doin' y' own t'ing." He licks his lip, "Well, 'cept 'til y' found me."

She rolls her eyes with an inelegant snort. "More lahke until yah _harassed_ me."

"I didn't hear no complaints."

The pure seduction held in his voice is enough to make her drop the subject with a blush, averting her eyes. She ignores his chuckle before finally shaking it off.

"What are yah lookin' at now?"

"Y' ever heard of de 'Gem of Cyttorak'?"

"Yeah, when ah was five years old and believed in unicorns. Thousands of years ago eight powerful beings had got in a hissy fit about who was more powerful so they all made magical artifacts and yada yada, the gem of Cyttorak was supposed tah make whoever possessed it significantly more powerful." She rattled on with an uninterested twirl of her hand.

"So y' sayin' y' don't believe it?"

"Do pigs fly?"

"I don't t'ink I know Warren enough to be qualified t' give dat answer, mais if y' say he's a pig-"

She let out a laugh. "Alright, get tah the point."

He grinned at her, nodding his head towards the glass case with one singular artifact within it. A jewel barely the size of a cotton ball sat on display. Below it, the inscription read "The Crimson Gem of Cyttorak."

"Yah gotta be shittin' me."

* * *

Kitty and Bobby had since made their way back inside, the air between them had become efficiently awkward and needed someone to act as a buffer. Bobby first tried looking for Rogue, but after several minutes of no luck he caught sight of Jubilee running over to an already tense looking conversation Ororo and Logan were having.

"I wonder what's up." He thought aloud, looking at Kitty with an uneasy expression.

The pair made their way up to the others in time for Jubilee's burst of information.

"Yeah so, I'm over here chilling with one of Warren's younger, _super_ wealthy, and _ridiculously_ good looking friends and he's all flirty and stuff until I pulled a major party foul by being distracted and going all '**_John?!_**_' _during our conversation which, by the way, didn't go over so well with Hottie McHot-stuff. Anyways, like I was saying, what the hell is John doing here and why isn't he getting his butt pounded by some fists o' adamantium right about now?"

"Pyro's here?" Bobby asked incredulously, looking at Logan and Ororo for verification.

"Yes, it appears that John is here but I don't want us starting any trouble." Ororo looked pointedly at Bobby before continuing, "Logan ran into him just a few minutes ago and it would appear that as of right now he's simply attending as a guest." She replied in a calm, stern manner.

"Yeah but there's just like, no freaking way that John would attend without having something up his sleeve." Kitty said, looking over her shoulder until she spotted the mutant in question. "I mean, he's just bad news."

"He did say somethin' that caught my attention 'Ro." Logan added as an afterthought. "But we'll just wait and see how it goes from here. Let's not make a scene unless he gives us a reason to."

"Okay fine. One question though," Jubilee piped in while crossing her arms over her chest, "where's Rogue?"

* * *

"De one an' only." Remy smirked at her, watching her bend over and bring her face close to the glass in awe. "Bet he's got one of those unicorns y' so admired too."

She stood back up with a roll of her eyes. "Hardy har har, Cajun. So he's got a ruby that he's deemed the 'Gem of Cyttorak', if yah haven't noticed from the whole cure fiasco, Warren Worthington Sr. wasn't all there."

"Guess dere's only one way to find out if it's legit, non?"

"The fact that the door wasn't even locked certainly leads me tah believe that if yah so much as lift that glass an inch it's gonna set off a whole buncha alarms we ain't gonna want tah deal with." She warned.

"Who said anyt'ing about _lifting _de glass, chere?" He asked mischievously.

She watched in awe as he took his right index finger and pressed it to the glass, tracing it in a circle that left a glowing magenta trail. Her heart raced when she saw the glass circle melt into itself to create an opening, fearful that they were going to get caught.

"Ah don't think-"

He cut her off when he reached in, pulling the gem from its resting spot and held it out to her.

"Y' know Rogue," she liked the sound of her name rolling off his tongue, "dey say dat de gem is s'posed t' make whoever possesses its powers infinitely stronger. Maybe it help y' control yo's?" He tried to hand her the stone but she took a few steps back while shaking her head.

"Or worse, _accelerates_ the drainin' an' kills someone instantly." She countered.

* * *

After splitting up to look for Rogue around the ballroom her friends regrouped while waiting on Kitty to return from where she was looking outside the building.

She hurried over to the anxious mutants, shaking her head 'no'. "She wasn't there. None of the workers said they like saw her, either. It'd be kind of hard to miss a girl with that hair if she passed them, you know?" Her voice sounded slightly panicked.

"Damn it, you _know_ that Pyro had something to do with this!" Bobby said hotly, pointing a finger in the direction that he'd last seen his fiery counterpart. "The more time we let him scare us into not making a scene the more time she could be possibly being kidnapped or tortured by Magneto, or Sabretooth, or freaking Doctor Doom for all we know!"

Jubilee's fingers crackled with electricity, clenching them absent mindedly. "Bobby's right Logan, Pyro's involvement in her missing is really the only logical option."

"Cool it Popsicle, she's still in the building." Logan huffed. "I can smell her. Worst case scenario, he's got her tied up somewhere and he's doin' it to specifically get a rise out of _you._"

Logan looked at Ororo who reluctantly sighed and nodded at him. "We're going to have to find her sooner rather than later, I suggest you have a word with our young friend."

"Come on ice." He grunted, heading back in John's direction.

* * *

Rogue looked startled when her back came in to contact with the wall, having nowhere else to retreat from the crimson jewel in her companion's hand. "Ah don't wanna hold it, okay?" She finally snapped at him when he wouldn't take no for an answer.

He raised an eyebrow at her with an amused look she wanted to slap off of his face.

"T'ought y' didn't believe in it?" He teased. "If it ain't a true story, den what's de harm in tryin' t' see if it helps y' control yo' powers? Remy will readily volunteer t' be yo' test subject."

"Ah don't wanna hurt you."

The sad overtones of her voice instantly wiped the smile off of his face, pushing all of his joking aside. For the first time he realized just how uncomfortable she looked.

She _really was _scared.

She was so scared that his empathy was picking up on it without him even trying to read her emotions. She wasn't just scared, she was terrified.

Terrified of hurting _him._

He took a step closer to her until he could place his hand on the side of her head, kept safe from her hair. "Je suis desole, chere." He leaned forward to murmur it into her ear, "I didn't mean t' upset y'. I was only kidding, 'm so sorry."

His empathy again picked up on the relief that washed over her without any effort to use the power on his part. He felt the warmth of calmness take over the former anxiety that was previously eating away in her chest. He felt it like it was his own.

Well, _that's new._

"Remy?" She noticed him pause to look at the stone with an almost shocked look of disbelief. He reached his bare hand towards her face.

"REMY?" She tried again with a more startled sound, trying desperately to get out from between him and the wall when she noticed his skin had taken on a faint pink glow, so faint that she wouldn't have noticed at all if the gem in his hand wasn't emitting such a similar glow in itself.

* * *

Pyro noticed Logan and Bobby approaching him, and this time he had his lighter out before they even made it within ten feet of him. He noticed the no-bullshit expression on Logan's face that was far less humorous to him then the furious one plastered across Bobby.

It did surprise him however when the Canadian man grabbed a fistful of Pyro's shirt, dragging him out to the less crowded terrace and slamming his back into the railing. Pyro's own anger came to a boiling point and he snapped at him with an edge of pure venom in his voice.

"What the hell are you doing you psychotic fucking animal?" His own hands came to grab Logan's, trying to remove it from his shirt while struggling to get out of his grasp.

"What'd you do with Rogue, John?" Bobby spat, his hand frosting up in an open threat.

Pyro looked from Bobby, back to Logan and let out a barking laugh. "Are you fucking kidding me? How the hell should I know where your pathetic girlfriend went? Where ever she is, I didn't have anything to do with it. It's not like I'd be able to have any fun with her anyways, if you know what I mean." He finished with a leer.

"Like hell you didn't. You show up here, clearly unwanted and out of character, and then Rogue goes missing! Tell us where the hell she is or I swear I'll-"

The fire from the space heaters flared outwards, the flames growing larger and threatening to lick the side of the building. Any guests that hadn't left when the three first burst out onto the terrace had shuffled into the building quickly.

"You'll _what_? Just give me a fucking reason, Bobby." He spat, before turning his attention back to the man holding him. "I haven't seen Rogue all night, not that I'd even give a shit if I did."

Logan let him down, speaking again as Pyro straightened his shirt out.

"There's only one problem I've got with your story, bub."

A scoff, an eye roll.

"Yeah? Then how about you enlighten me?"

"If you didn't see her, then how on earth did you know her powers came back?"

Pyro froze, his mouth opening and closing trying to reach for an answer.

"Yeah, I thought so."

There was a distinct sound of metal scraping metal, and Pyro was pretty sure it would be described as 'snickt'.

* * *

Her eyes were squeezed as tight as they could be, her breath frozen inside her throat. She didn't know what he was doing, but she knew that he was going to touch her and more importantly, she knew it was going to end badly.

His fingers brushed her bare cheek and she bit her lip in anguish, her eyes closed so tight that tears barely made their way out of them as she waited for the all too familiar pull.

"Y' know, if y' hold dat face for too long its gone get stuck like dat."

He wiped away a tear.

The pull never came.

Her eyes shot open, her mind wracked with confusion. "Ah don't- how did you?"

He held the gem up to show that it was still glowing of its own accord.

"Felt it enhance m' empathy, makin' me notice everyt'ing y' were feelin' wit'out even tryin'. Doesn't usually work dat way, usually have t' concentrate on dat power pretty hard t' use it." He wipes the remaining tears away. "Figured if y' not gon' try t' use it, maybe it'd effect Remy's powers."

She stares at him in disbelief.

"It did."

"Ah noticed."

"Can feel m' power vibratin' all over m' skin. Makes some kind of layer when I try t' make it t', I s'pose." He watches the realization wash over her face and touches her chin this time, now that she's relaxed and let go of the fear of draining him.

His hand runs down her neck, grazing over the naked triangle of her shoulder that he'd noticed when he first saw her tonight. He links two fingers into the top of her glove and glances into her eyes as he starts to pull it off. She doesn't notice it drop to the ground as he takes her now bare hand and presses it to his face.

"Ah can't even feel yah power. It feels just like normal." Her voice is breathy as she runs her palm against his stubble.

He doesn't think he's ever seen someone look as wonder struck as she does in that moment. His hand wraps itself around the elbow of her bent arm as she continues to just touch him. She just wants to feel him, to feel skin. There's nothing carnal about it, no ulterior moments.

She just wants to familiarize herself with what it feels like to be human.

He lets her. His free hand finally busies itself by stroking her jaw line with his thumb.

"Remy," Her voice calls for his attention so he stops his movements but doesn't remove his hand. He tilts his head in question.

"Look at me,"

Confusion crosses his features; he hasn't _stopped_ looking at her.

"Remy," her gloved hand comes up to touch his bicep, running its way over his forearm, "_look_ at me" her hand stops at his wrist, wrapping around it delicately "with yah own eyes." He hears the familiar click as she turns off his image inducer.

* * *

Pyro doesn't waste any time in his actions. His arms spread out to both sides, fingers open and demanding. Within an instant the fire from the various space heaters rises and spreads, before he swings his arms back in front of him and it spirals into the windows, glass bursting indoors with smoke and flame.

Anticipating the attack as soon as the words had left Logan's mouth, Bobby's body glazed over in an immaculate ice covering. He shields himself from the flame threatening to lick his skin, shooting them back and extinguishing a small amount of flames with his own icy mutation.

An angry growl erupts throughout the chaos, and Pyro lets out a very pleased _awesome_ as he watches Logan stand back up to his full height, his burned and marred flesh quickly healing itself from where it could be seen under the tattered remains of what had been his shirt and jacket.

Logan cracks his neck, ignoring the sound of the guests hastily making their ways out of the ballroom, even the sound of their feet hitting the pavement from downstairs as they exit the building in its entirety.

"Yer gonna regret that."

"Bring it on, 'bub'." Pyro taunts, sending his next onslaught of flames at his two opponents.

* * *

He blinks dumbly, staring at her now with his own red and black eyes. "Rogue," his voice is heavy and full of curiosity, questioning her.

Her bare hand wraps around his neck and pulls his face down to her level, leaning her forehead on his.

"Yes."

It wasn't posed as a question; not a reply to his inquiry.

It was posed as a statement.

_It was permission._

He wastes no time capturing her face with both of his hands and claiming her lips with his. His movements are gentle and slow, not wanting to scare her off. He watches her eyes close before following her example and closing his own. Her hands come to rest on his shoulders, trapped within his own that still cradle her face.

Everything changes when he feels her tongue press against his lips with a slight whimper.

He loses all grasps on what the word gentle implies, pressing his body into hers roughly. One hand finds the wall beside her head as the other rests on her waist during their frenzied attempts to get their fill of each other's kiss. Once he feels her back arch off the wall in an attempt to get impossibly closer to him he loses the last bit of restraint he has.

He pulls away from her mouth abruptly, but continues to kiss her neck in an attempt to stop her protests from the loss of contact. Grabbing the inside of her dress slit, he yanks until it splits considerably higher with a distinct ripping sound and he doesn't hesitate to slip his hand further, grabbing the back of her bare thigh and hoisting her into his arms. The larger slit allows her the range of motion to wrap both legs around his waist.

His mouth makes its way back to hers, demanding entrance with his tongue that she doesn't resist. Her body feels as if it's on fire, burning from the inside out and she can't keep a single part of her body still as she entangles her fingers in his hair, needing him to keep her fire blazing. She lets out a small gasp as his hips grind against hers, the evidence of his arousal clearly evident as she lets her head fall back against the wall in bliss.

She smiles as he doesn't miss the opportunity to trail kisses down her throat and over her collar bones from her new position and she can't help but moan slightly when she feels his teeth lightly graze the delicate skin. Her mind is fogged over in lust and she can't make heads or tails of what she's doing but she does know for certain that it never felt this way with Bobby.

_Bobby._

If the thought of Bobby wasn't enough to make her break away from his grasp the sound of screams and explosions certainly did it.

* * *

Warren sprung into action as soon as the flame erupted outside the windows and the glass came shattering into the room. He shoved his way through the crowd, urging them to the exits as he made his way towards the explosion. "Was it a bomb?" He asked in a worried tone as he came across Ororo, also on her way towards the terrace.

She shook her head at him, and the first thing that sank in was that this was not a hate crime on mutants by humans. The look on her face told him that this was something else entirely. The way that Kitty and Jubilee sprung into action, helping anyone who'd been injured from the explosion only verified what he already knew. This wasn't a hate crime, but a mutant caused act of violence.

This is what the X-Men had been trained for.

* * *

Logan erupted with an angry roar as he launched at Pyro, getting another face full of white hot flame. He swung his claws blindly, listening for Pyro's movements when the flames moved into another direction.

Bobby narrowly missed the wave of fire as he hit the ground and rolled across the charred floor. Pushing himself up before Pyro could direct more trouble his way, he began to run with his hand outstretched before him. The ground frosted over in clear ice and just when Pyro threw his flames back in Bobby's direction he hit the ground, sliding with the momentum of his run until he slammed his foot into Pyro's legs, sending the mutant toppling over.

The two mutants tussled, Pyro quickly learning that hitting Bobby's ice form was doing more harm to his own hand then to Bobby's person. Instead he rolled away from him, grabbing his lighter and sprouting a wall of fire to cut the mutant off from him. "Don't get mad at me because you misplaced your toy, Bobby." He laughed as he got to his feet.

His laughter enraged his former friend to such a degree that he didn't hesitate in diving through the flame, his formerly iced body returning to its flesh alternative. He grabbed Pyro, slamming him into the railing despite the loss of his previous advantage he had in his icy form.

"Where is she?"

Pyro's face twisted into a snarl as he jerked his head back. "Bobby, let me tell you a little something about your girlfriend." He started, before ramming his head into Bobby's forehead with a satisfying sense of 'how's it feel on that side?' "I really couldn't give a shit about her." He finished as Bobby fell away from him unconscious.

"I believe the question he asked you was 'where is she?'"

The voice broke Pyro out of his cocky mood just in time to dodge the metal claws that accompanied it.

* * *

Remy felt her shove him away in a panic, the noise clearly unsettling her. He reached for her as she stumbled once on her feet, trying to rush her way to the door.

"Chere, don't panic. I ain't gon' let anythin' hurt you." He said, grabbing her arm again in an attempt to calm her down. He was calm and collected, fully knowing that the sound was meant to draw the X-Men's attention while he left with the gem.

"No, yah don't understand!" She cried, ripping her arm out of his clutches. "That's why ah'm here. Ah was s'posed tah be keepin' an eye out!" She says, turning to run back to the door.

_Oh, merde._

She was an X-Man.

"Are yah comin'?" She asked impatiently, half way out the door as she looked at him in confusion.

What he wants to say is

_No, I need t' go._

"Lead de way." Is what he says instead.

* * *

Unable to escape from where Logan had him cornered on the outside terrace, Pyro puts his hands up in defeat. He flinches back vehemently when Logan brings his claws up to rest under his chin. "Don't, jesus, just stop! Look, I don't _know _where Rogue is! I haven't fucking seen her at all tonight!"

With the fires extinguished thanks to the rain Ororo has brought in, Pyro is left defenseless as he tries to reason with his current opponent. His eyes glance to his watch more than once during this altercation.

Logan inhales through his nose, before letting go of Pyro with grunt. "He ain't lyin'." He says to Ororo who has joined them on the terrace while the others attended to helping injured guests and watching over an unconscious Bobby. "I can smell the truth on him."

"Tell me Logan," Pyro licks his lip before breaking into a pleased grin. "Do you smell what's coming next?"

As soon as the words are out of his mouth the ruined tables and space heaters topple over, rolling with the gust of wind that appears abruptly. They clatter against the far wall, to the left of them. When Logan looks back up Pyro is nowhere to be seen.

He takes in another deep inhale, catching a scent that he feels distinctly familiar with. It tickles his senses in a way that wants to bring back forgotten memories to no avail. A second inhalation reveals a much more familiar scent.

He turns abruptly towards Ororo, and only growls one word as he runs towards the scent's origin.

"Sabretooth."

* * *

They don't waste time making their way back to the grand ballroom, both running as fast as they can. Rogue can feel her stomach clenching as she hopes that nobody has been injured, and guilt is heavy in her lungs with every breath she takes. The guilt however is abruptly replaced with horror as she rounds the corner, her throat closing up in a painful gargling.

"Always the center of attention these days, aren't ya girlie?" Sabretooth asks in his deep, guttural growl. She struggles with his hands holding her over him by her throat. She realizes he came prepared for a run in with her, wearing long sleeves and gloves. He squeezes tighter, and she swears if he tightens his grip one more time he's going to crush her windpipe.

There's a distinct 'shink' from somewhere behind her, and she only registers once she makes contact with the floor that the noise came from Remy's metal bo staff that he currently was fighting Sabretooth off with.

She takes in large gulps of air, sputtering for a moment as she tries to make up for lost time. It isn't until Sabretooth slams Remy into a wall, his bared teeth glistening as he threatens to 'rip his jugular out' with said teeth that she pushes herself off the ground and launches at him furiously. She lands a kick to the side of his face that successfully knocks him backwards and relieves her companion from his clutches.

She barely has a moment to notice the glowing magenta playing cards that appear in Remy's hands before they whizz past her, making contact with Sabretooth's chest.

"Dieu!" He lets out in an exasperated breath of disbelief as he watches the feral mutant's chest splay open just to heal itself again within seconds. Instinctually he shoves an arm in front of Rogue to usher her behind him.

Bad move.

He registers that she's screaming, and only after a moment he realizes it's not _at him_ but rather at the newest addition to their party who is pummeling him with unbearable strength. This mutant too is snapping at him viciously, growling obscenities he can't make out while trying to fend him off. Worst of all, Rogue is screaming at the man to _stop it _because he was _tryin' tah help _her, and Remy realizes that his adversary is _her friend._

"Logan watch out!" She shouts shrilly, and finally Remy is freed from underneath this 'Logan' as his first opponent is now going at his newest opponent with wild abandon. The heavy metallic smell of blood fills the hall as they slash at each other like animals just for their wounds to be healed again.

Rogue's pulling him to his feet by this point, trying to get him out of their way because _this is gonna take awhile_ she tells him. He notices now that more people have decided to join their fray in the hallway, and a white haired woman sends Sabretooth flying through the window on the far wall with a gust of wind.

Logan sets his glare on Remy again as he wipes the blood from his mouth and Rogue dives in front of Remy just in time for him to not be skewered with the metal claws that Remy's pretty sure sprouted from Logan's fist.

As if he needed a cherry to top off his increasingly eventful night,

he realizes that Sabretooth snatched the gem from his pocket.


	6. Sleeping Beauty

**AN: This chapter is a ****_bit _****of a filler chapter, getting out a few necessary things to get the plot rolling. Thanks to everyone for your review of the last few chapters, they really encourage me to write faster in excitement for what y'all have to say next.**

**Immediately after posting this chapter, I banged out the next chapter. It possessed my hands and wrote itself. I want to post it like, 5 minutes ago, but if I post back to backs then this chapter won't get reviewed :( Review it so I can post the next one lovies! Enjoy!**

* * *

If losing the gem was the cherry to top off Remy's night, then getting the third degree from Rogue's companions was definitely the fudge. Maybe even the whipped cream too, if he got extra toppings for her claw wielding friend's obvious abhorrent feelings towards him.

This was not how he saw this night going. It was supposed to be an easy job. Get in, get the gem, and get out. He honestly should have known that things were too easy, too good to be true when he'd brushed right past the hall attendants and the door had been left unlocked. He sighed, tangling his free hand in his hair and scratching.

He'd let himself get distracted.

If he'd just gotten the gem and got out, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't be sitting here, smoking a cigarette in the hallway with the cops ten feet away from him asking Warren questions while Rogue tried to connect the dots with her friends on what had unfolded. He certainly heard John's name mentioned a few times, along with 'Sabretooth' who he assumed was the hairier of his opponents.

"Well John was obviously workin' with Sabretooth. He practically rubbed my nose in it." Her ornery friend, Logan, said to her.

_That_ certainly caught his attention.

_So Johnny set me up t' get de gem taken. _He chuckled at the fire starter's sneaky antics. He'd probably applaud the clever turn around if it hadn't been aimed at him; a way to cut him out of the payment, obviously. He'd be having a talk with his employer no doubt. He wasn't new to the back stabbing and betraying nature of the thieving world.

"Somethin' funny over there, Gumbo?" Logan asked him with a raised eyebrow, arms crossed in a stance that radiated his lack of amusement from where he'd been talking to Rogue. Rogue was now looking over her shoulder, her eyes locking with his.

He took in another breath of the sweet smoke, letting it out with a low chuckle. " 'sides dat haircut of yo's? Non."

His eyes drifted to the opposite wall in the doorway of the ballroom when one of Rogue's friends, a short Asian girl, broke into laughter. Her obvious amusement made his mouth spread into a cheeky grin, giving the girl a wink.

"Where'd you find this guy, Stripes?" Logan asked, drawing Rogue's eyes away from him so that she could look back at her friend.

He didn't need his empathy to feel the panic sweep over her. He could tell by the way her body tensed, wrapping her arms around herself insecurely, that she didn't want to tell Logan 'where she found him'.

"If'n y' couldn't tell by de suit an' tie, I _was _attending de fundraiser befo' yo' grogner ami attacked us." The lie rolls easily off his tongue before he can even form it in his head, "We were reminiscing 'bout de South when she caught sight o' him an' he ran."

"So you spotted Sabretooth and chased after him _alone_ instead of coming to find me or 'Ro?" Logan questioned Rogue incredulously.

Rogue doesn't miss a beat in playing off of Remy's story, "Ah didn't wanna lose sight of him by goin' tah look for yah. Besides, Remy was there if ah needed help."

It's at this point that he notices Warren lead the cops to the elevator, bidding them good night before returning to the group and thus shifting the attention from Rogue to himself. The blonde angel sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair as he looks to the white haired woman.

"We still aren't sure why either of them showed up to start trouble in the first place. None of the donations had been touched. It's almost as if they came just to get your attention." Warren says, disbelief crossing his features.

* * *

It isn't until they're settled in the van, on the way home that Bobby finally regains consciousness. It takes him a moment to adjust, remembering what happened and observing where he is. He sits up abruptly to look for Rogue; the quick movements making him feel dizzy. He calms down when he feels her gloved hand grab his.

"Yah feelin' okay?" Her eyebrows pull together in concern at his previously worried expression as he relaxes back against his seat.

He nods, rubbing his left temple with his hand. The throbbing in his head makes him wince, and he's sure he'll have to get checked out by Hank when they arrive to the mansion. "Yeah, I'm just glad you're ok. Where were you? Did John attack you?"

"You should relax, Bobby. You're suffering from a concussion. Rogue will be able to answer your questions after we've arrived home and you've been properly checked out by Mr. McCoy." Ororo's voice drifted back to them from the front seat.

"Yeah, John totally stole your move Bobby." Kitty giggled, trying to lighten the mood as she looked behind her at her two friends. Her eyebrows knitted together, taking in Rogue's appearance. "Whoa, I didn't even like, notice that Sabretooth totally ruined your dress."

Rogue's face contorts in confusion as she follows Kitty's line of sight to her dress. She felt blood rush to her cheeks as she noticed the brunette had been talking about the large tear that had been ripped up her dress' slit during her feverous make-out session with Remy. Her gloved hand rubs her ungloved one self consciously.

"Um, yeah. It got ripped while we were fightin'."

The rest of the drive goes quietly until they arrive at the mansion and start piling out. At this point, it's Jubilee's hysteric giggles that break the silence.

"What?" Logan asks her curiously.

"Just thinking about what he said about your hair." The girl snorts, before doubling over into laughter.

* * *

It seems that Bobby had forgotten his questions from the night of the fundraiser, because he doesn't bring them up again. His injury had been diagnosed as a minor concussion, one that still got him excused from danger room sessions for the rest of the week.

With Piotr still away visiting family, the girls enlist Emma in joining their danger room sessions. After the second session that week, Logan refuses to run the simulations with them _until the estrogen levels decrease _he'd told them. Needless to say, the rest of the sessions sail smoothly with Ororo running the control room.

The walls around them take back their normal blank metal appearance at the end of their latest simulation. Kitty and Jubilee are kidding about creating a rival X-Men team of all females; _The Westchester Sirens_ Kitty jokingly names them.

"Yeah, and we won't have to wear these lame leather suits." Jubilee adds, putting her hands on her hips. "We'd make bad ass costumes like Emma's." She said, nodding her head in the blonde's direction.

Emma smirked, pushing her chin length locks back from her face. "Darling, I'd hardly call this a _costume._" Her hand swayed in a downward motion from her chest to her knee, gesturing to her outfit.

"No, ah'd call it _lingerie._" Rogue joked, causing the other girls to giggle and even Emma's smirk spread into an amused smile, trying to hold her own laugh.

Truth be told, Emma's training outfit was definitely what one would consider a hybrid of lingerie and the classic X-Men uniform. Being that she wasn't an X-Man (nor did she want to be) she was allowed to choose her own clothes for training, and chose she did. Her outfit consisted of form fitting, white leather pants and a white leather top that cut into a dangerously low v neck, ended two and a half inches above her pants waist band, and had cap sleeves.

"Well, whatever it's considered, I'd call it _hot._" Kitty admitted, laughing as Emma posed dramatically to emphasize the 'hotness' of her outfit. "Ha, Emma's main tactic in battle is to like, distract the enemy with her bountiful cleavage."

"Don't be stealing my moves now, Pryde." Emma teased.

"Speaking of hot, can we please have a moment of silence in the honor of that fine specimen that came to Rogue's rescue?" Jubilee piped in with a grin, causing Rogue to roll her eyes.

Ever since the night of the fundraiser the story about Remy's involvement had been grossly exaggerated and spread throughout the mansion. Some of the stories had painted him as a chivalrous male who came to Rogue's rescue when Sabretooth chased her down. Others had portrayed him as a demon eyed bad ass who wanted to take down Sabretooth to impress Rogue into a date. _All_ of them had included his undeniable good looks.

"Now that you mention it, I have heard quite a bit about this 'gorgeous stranger' from the fundraiser." Emma said, raising an eyebrow at Rogue. "With red eyes. Anyone I might know?" She added significantly.

If either of the two other girls noticed Rogue's sudden shift in demeanor they didn't mention it. Instead they kept giggling to each other about the newest version of the story going around in which it was Remy who knocked out Bobby in a jealous rage at seeing the two together. A story they both knew to be false, but it amused them never the less.

"Can't say ah'd know. Ah'd only just met him that night mahself, Emma." She tried to keep her voice casual, not wanting to indicate that he was in fact the man Emma had seen in her head. She ignored Emma's knowing smile as she headed to take a shower.

She didn't want to think about the kiss between her and Remy.

She didn't want to think about Remy _at all._

* * *

Freshly showered and clothed, Rogue makes her way down stairs to look for Bobby. After checking the kitchen and the library she finally finds him in the rec room, where she settles next to him on the couch.

"How was your danger room session?" He asks as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, his long sleeve protecting his skin from hers. His eyes are focused on the TV, watching the newest hockey game.

"It was okay," She answers with a shrug, "it's definitely a lot easier without Logan."

Bobby turns his attention to her now, a grin spreading across his boyishly handsome face. "I think he's glad to let Ororo take the reins on the training until Pete and I come back. He told Ororo that he can't get you guys to pay attention when you're all together but I think he just doesn't want to watch Emma prance around in her costume." He joked with a wink.

She actually muffled a laugh in her hand at this, trying to shake the thought of an attraction between Emma and Logan out of her head. "When did Mr. McCoy say yah can start trainin' again?"

"Not for another three days, at the very least." He slowly reaches out to tuck a white strand behind her ear, careful to not brush his finger tips against her skin.

Her breath catches as he withdraws his hand, his piercing blue eyes meeting hers. She's seen this look before, her chest tightens, the look he gives her before he's about to kiss her. And she wants him to; she wants him to so bad.

She wants him to kiss her so badly, to ease any doubts she has about his affections for her. It's been only a little less than two months since the cure wore off, and he's only given her shielded kisses to the top of her head; given stiff hugs with the protection of layers of clothes between them.

_"Even wit' y' powers, y' kiss is unbelievable."_

She closes her eyes and she's not sure if it's to push the memory of Remy's words out of her mind, or because she's anticipating Bobby's lips meeting hers. She doesn't open them and her heart races a little faster as she feels him shift to lean forward. She can taste his breath when he's only millimeters away, it's minty and clean.

The ringing shriek hits them like a force field as they abruptly jerk away from each other, holding their ears to block out the painfully piercing sound.

* * *

Remy checks the napkin again, his vision blurring over the loopy cursive written above the address. He takes in the script, glancing back up to the mansion before he confirms that he is in the right place. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can't stop the thief from in him considering all the treasures a place like this might hold.

It's the middle of the day and the gate opens for him as soon as he approaches it, no code needed until sun down. His breath is slow and even as he makes his way towards the entrance, only vaguely taking in the sight of children and young adults mingling outside.

He narrowly misses a Frisbee, swaying slightly when it crosses from the front of his gaze to his peripheral. A light hearted laugh is quickly followed by a distinctly accented voice that he soon discovers belongs to a young red head, no more than twelve years old.

"Sorry! Rahne wasn't watching where…" He watches as the child's eyes widen in recognition, taking in his appearance. Her eyes graze down from where his hair sticks to his sweaty face, over his dirt and blood stained shirt torn open in shreds.

He watches her open her mouth in horror, and the only thought that he can make out is _damn they fucked up m' hearin' _as she lets out the most blood curdling shriek he's ever heard in his life. The sight of others holding their ears in pain just like him is only a small relief before his body gives way, and he sinks into a black sleep.

* * *

_The small café is only a brief walk from his apartment, one he takes leisurely while indulging in a cigarette to keep him company. As he rounds the corner he catches sight of the outside tables and is genuinely surprised that she really showed up. Her short black locks frame the sides of her angular face while she looks down into her coffee, stirring it absent mindedly._

_"Gotta say, Gambit's surprised y' came." He says as he takes the seat across from her, watching her smile as she looks up to see him._

_"Well 'Gambit', when Mel Hardok gives her word she keeps it." Her honey eyes dance in amusement and he wonders briefly if she's a telepath laughing at the next words that are going to come out of his mouth._

_"Well, den y' should explain why y' would set me up t' fail if y' intended on keepin' yo' part o' de deal. I know dat Johnny was workin' wit' dat Sabretoot' who swiped de gem from me."_

_She raises her mug to her lips, still smiling as she takes a sip of the hot liquid. "Yes, I have to admit that it must be quite embarrassing for a master thief such as you to be stolen from."_

_" S' kind of hard t' notice when a homme's got y' pinned t' a wall and plannin' t' eat y' jugular fo' dessert, non?"_

_Her head nods in agreement as she turns to her purse hanging from her chair back. She turns back to him with a heavy envelope, setting it in front of him. "Well, that's your full payment for a job well done. You can count it, if you'd like."_

_His eye brow rises curiously but he wordlessly stuffs the envelope into one of the many pockets of his trench coat. "I don't understand chere. Why are y' payin' me if y' purposely messed up de heist?"_

_Her eye brows lift closer to her hairline, her mouth forming a shocked 'o' before she shakes her head and continues in her light voice, "Oh, no, no. The job went exactly how we wanted. As a matter of fact, I have the proposal for our next endeavor." She shuffles in her purse again, placing the paper in front of him. "This is what we need you to steal next."_

_His eyes leave her face, trailing down to the paper in front of him as he takes in the details of the job. He stops half way down._

_There are a few things that make Remy a skilled poker player. For starters, he's well trained in masking his emotions with his effortless poker face. He's also observant of people's tells, knowing when to call their bluff. Lastly, and most importantly, Remy is very aware of when you need to cut your losses and fold._

_This is one of those times._

_"And if I don't take de job?"_

_"You will." She replies confidently._

_"And if I __**don't**__?"_

_Her lips pull into a smile and he notices the bell on the door ring quietly as someone exits the café to come stand behind her. "You remember Victor, don't you?"_

* * *

When he wakes up it's in an unfamiliar place. He winces as he sits up, and he's not sure if it's from the injuries he endured or the brightness from the fluorescent lights above him. Swinging his legs to one side of the table he was laying on, he notices that he's only wearing pants and that his stomach is bandaged.

"Ah, so sleeping beauty awakes." A voice says, and it startles him. He glances over his shoulder to see what he assumes is the doctor, a man covered in blue fur. He wracks his brain, trying to place why the face looks so familiar. "Sorry if I startled you," the doctor says, "How uncouth of me. I am Hank McCoy."

He nods, reaching out to shake the doctor's hand. "Remy Lebeau." His eyes take in his surroundings once more. "Where am I?"

"Well, in a whole, you're at what we know as Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters." He says, sitting on a stool and rolling backwards to grab his chart. "At present, you're in the medical wing." He says, smiling sheepishly at him as he puts his glasses on. "You were in pretty bad condition when you stumbled upon the grounds. You scared poor Siryn half to death."

It's his turn to smile sheepishly, his mind finally catching up to him as he remembers making his way here after his altercation. He remembers the girl with the deafening scream, and he remembers losing consciousness.

"I've tended to your injuries, most of which weren't too serious. I did have to stitch a particularly deep gash along your obliques, but other than that your body seemed to be healing fine." Hank gestures to an already yellowing bruise on his side. "I found it curious that your body had reacted so quickly to the healing process, although I did not find you to have a healing power, simply accelerated healing time. It must be a side effect your mutation."

He nodded absent mindedly before the door opened and the white haired woman he had met before entered the room.

"How is he, Hank?"

"Well why don't you ask him yourself, my dear?" Hank gestured to him. "Mr. Lebeau, this is our head mistress Ms. Ororo Munroe. Ororo, this is Remy Lebeau."

He shook her hand, murmuring a _nice t' meet y'_ before scratching the back of his head awkwardly. He didn't really think this through.

"It would seem by your injuries that you had another run in with Sabretooth." She spoke, raising an eyebrow at him. "You seemed to have gotten yourself on the brotherhood's radar. You were pretty banged up there, Mr. Lebeau."

He leaned his elbows on his knees, flashing her his most debonair smile. "If y' t'ink Remy look bad, y' should see him chere."

Despite her usually professional manner, she smiled at his wink. "Well, despite the ruckus you've caused Mr. Lebeau,"

"Remy,"

"Despite the ruckus you've caused _Remy_, we here at the Xavier Institute welcome all mutants interested in advancing their mutation and fighting for the peaceful co existence between humans and mutants. If you'd like, we're perfectly willing to offer you a room." She offered with a kind smile.

"I dunno chere, I'm not too sure y' clawed ami like me too much."

"Remy, you'll soon come to realize that Logan doesn't like _anyone _very much." She joked, which brought him to a chuckle.

"Okay den, oui. I'd like t' stay very much."

* * *

Clad in only a pair of sweat pants that Hank had changed him into while unconscious and a pair of socks, Remy followed Ororo as she showed him the bare necessities such as the kitchen, garage, and library before she told him she'd show him to a room.

"Hey, sleeping beauty's up!" It was the second time someone had referred to him as that since he had arrived.

The voice caused him and Ororo to look over their shoulders where the same Asian girl that he made laugh at the fundraiser was grinning while she approached him. "We didn't get to meet the other night, I'm Jubilee." She held her hand out to him and he shook it.

"Remy."

"Nice battle wound." She said, pointing to the bandage on his side. "I'd hate to see the other guy." She joked.

"That's what he said." Ororo piped in with an amused smile.

"So is he joining, Storm?" Jubilee asked the older woman, popping her gum.

"Well, he's staying with us for now. Whether he's going to be joining the actual team isn't something that we have or need to come to a decision on yet."

Remy raised a curious eyebrow as the women spoke, Jubilee seemingly taking the answer with a nod.

"Cool."

A laugh caught his attention and when he glanced over Jubilee's shoulder it only verified who he thought the owner of the sound was. His lips pulled into a smirk as Rogue made her way up the stairs and into his view.

And then his smirk fell.

Because she was holding someone's hand.

She was holding someone's hand, and laughing at someone's joke, and smiling as she looked into someone's eyes.

And that someone wasn't _him._

_"Not that it's any of yah business, but __**Warren**__ ain't mah boyfriend."_

So 'someone' was the imbecile boyfriend.

When she looked up and caught sight of him he noticed her tense up slightly, but her smile didn't fade from her face. She gave a small wave, which surprised him.

"I see sleeping beauty woke up." Someone said, leading Rogue closer to him and the other two girls.

"Why does everyone keep callin' me dat?" His eyebrows knit together.

"Oh, because after Theresa finally stopped wailing on us with that scream of hers and they found you out front you know, unconscious, Kitty deemed you as 'sleeping beauty'." Jubilee said, as if this was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Makes sense." Remy deadpanned, causing a smirk to spread on Rogue's face that didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Well, I'm going to show Remy to his room now. You all can speak to him more at dinner." Ororo said, leading him down the hall.

* * *

He was actually surprised by how accommodating his room was. It was spacious with a queen size bed, two nightstands, a large dresser and mirror, along with a small writing desk and chair. It had double doors that lead out to a balcony, and he even had his own bathroom. Ororo had told him that because he was older than the students and 'young X-Men' he was one of the lucky ones who didn't have to share a room.

Sometime after 6:30 he headed down stairs to the dining hall, finding that it was already quite full with teachers and faculty alike. Filling his plate with tonight's meal, apparently a chicken pasta dish, his eyes glimpsed over the room until he found the familiar face he was looking for.

Settling in the chair across from her, he smirked as he caught Rogue's slightly surprised face as she looked up to see him. "Hey," she greeted with a small smile.

"Bonjour chere." His voice rumbled, returning her smile.

"Sleeping beauty's up!" A small voice piped in, taking a seat next to Rogue. He noticed her plate was devoid of any meat, and instead she had pasta and a small salad. "I'm Kitty." She waved slightly.

"Ah, so _you're _de créateur of mon new nickname." He said, narrowing his eyes jokingly with a slight smirk.

Kitty giggled, blushing slightly. "Yeah, guilty as charged!"

It wasn't until he spoke up that Remy noticed that 'someone' was sitting on the other side of Rogue. "Hey, I'm Bobby." He held his hand out to Remy, who reluctantly shook it. "I hear you're the one who tried to steal my girlfriend."

Remy's eyes flickered to Rogue's for a moment, and he noticed the color wash from her face and her body tense. It wasn't until Jubilee broke into a hysterical laugh that Rogue relaxed, even smiling to herself.

"Man, those rumors have gotten _so _bad. I swear the story about what went down at the fundraiser has like, five hundred different versions. And don't worry Bobby, only two thirds of them end with Rogue running off with Remy." Jubilee said between her fits of giggles.

Rogue chuckled, shaking her head. "Gossip hounds, the lot of yah." She pointed at her friends accusingly.

Remy just shook his head with a smile, taking a bite of his dinner.

* * *

After a few hours of tossing and turning, Remy finally gave up on the idea of sleep and instead padded down the hall to explore the mansion. Once his curiosity was satisfied, he headed back to his room and out onto his balcony for a cigarette. Igniting the end with his finger, he took in a breath and held it before letting the smoke go.

A minute or two later, a cough from above him caught his attention. Turning around to look up, he heard the cough again.

Grabbing the chair from his room and bringing it out onto his balcony, he climbed on it and grabbed the edge of the roof and pulled himself up. The sight that greeted him was a welcome one, to say the least. Rogue was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, confusion and then surprise crossing her face as he pulled himself up.

"Lurkin' above my bed room, chere?" He asked, making his way over to sit next to her.

She rolled her eyes and it wasn't lost on him that she scooted further away from him subtly when he sat down. "Don't flatter yah self swamp rat, the roof access door is right there." She said, pointing directly behind her.

They sat in silence for a few minutes in which he took the time to study her appearance. She was wearing a black night gown with thin straps. Even with her gloves that she must have pulled on before leaving her room, it was the most skin he'd ever seen her reveal. He turned his head to look forward, closing his eyes as he willed the dirty thoughts to leave his mind.

"Couldn't sleep?" Her voice draws him out of his thoughts, opening his eyes again. When he turns his head to look at her she's already staring at him.

"Non, feels too new s'pose. What about y'?

"Nightmares." She says, looking out over the roof again. Something about her tone tells him not to push the subject and as a result they fall into a comfortable silence again.

He pulls out another cigarette, offering her one that she declines.

"Those things will kill yah." He just chuckles in reply, watching her pick at her gloves. When he doesn't reply, she continues. "So are yah planning on staying?"

His lips close of the cigarette and it burns a little brighter before he exhales, nodding. "Was t'inkin' about it. Seems like a pretty good gig."

She bites her lip, _dieu _how he hates when she bites her lip, and nods.

"Thanks for not sayin' anything." She finally says what he's been expecting for the past fifteen minutes. "Yah know, about the fundraiser, and the club."

"And de kisses." He adds for her.

A big exhale, a guilty nod. "Yeah, and about the kiss."

"Kiss-es." He corrects her, enjoying when her face breaks into a smile and a nod.

"Yeah, kiss**es** whatevah." She laughs, and he thinks about how Bobby made her laugh earlier that day and the moment that he realized she was still with her boyfriend, even though it wasn't Warren.

"So Bobby, he be y' boyfriend, non?"

He notices the uncomfortable shift in her body language, how she nods tightly.

"Yeah, he's mah boyfriend." Another pause and she finally turns to meet his eyes again. "What happened at the fundraiser… that was wrong. Ah should of nevah did that. It was a mistake."

He's not going to lie, her admission wounds his pride a little bit. He doesn't know what he expected. Her to cheat on her boyfriend? Break up with Bobby? Throw herself at him?

He knew that Rogue wasn't like that. He'd felt her guilt the moment she pushed him away from her in the art gallery. He felt the change in her body from lust and excitement to guilt and shame, and even the little feeling he tried to ignore, _regret_. No, Rogue was a good girl. Good girls don't cheat on their boyfriends; they don't leave them for the bad guy.

He's a bad guy.

_Nobody ever taught him how to be good._

She watches as he snuffs his cigarette out on the roof tiles, flicking the cigarette butt away. He stands up, looking down at her from over his shoulder. "Don't worry about it petite. S' already forgotten." With that, he gracefully jumps down to his balcony.

And for whatever reason

that thought hurts.

She doesn't _want _to be forgotten.


	7. Forgotten

**AN: This chapter is a very angsty chapter, it has a completely different feel that any other chapter in this fic has. Take it for what it is, and trust that the fic will eventually sail on smoother waters again. That said, please review!**

**In case you were wondering, this story's rating has been moved up to M because in this chapter particularly, I use the word 'fuck' far too much. And also, there may be other mature themes down the line.**

**As for my reviews for the last chapters, thank you all so much for your encouraging words!**

**Kristen - Thanks for the review, it's much appreciated. Lets see, as for Remy and his acrobatic moves - he'd only just gotten out of the med lab that day and I didn't want him to be doing to much with his abdominals since he's supposed to have stitches. And that Rogue to Cyclops line is one of my favorite quotes of hers ever haha! As for the lip thing, if there was something detected it was coincidence haha. I've never read 50 shades of grey!**

**Lizzieturbo - Thank you so much for your review, I know what you mean about not being able to review all the works you come across, so I definitely appreciate you taking the time. I completely agree with you on the fact that a lot of the plot points (particularly the first chapter) are very cliche in Romy stories, but I'm hoping to add a certain flair (and a few twists) that make them not seem like the same old story in a different tongue. I'm glad you like my writing! I was so nervous my writing style wouldn't be well recieved.**

* * *

Maybe it's her fault.

Maybe she misinterpreted what he meant by 'it's already forgotten'.

Perhaps what he really meant was '_you're _already forgotten'.

At least, that's what it felt like. It had been 3 days since Remy's arrival at the mansion and he hadn't said a single word to her since that night on the roof. He hadn't sat with them at meals, didn't hang out with them when they messed around in the rec room, never passed her in or out of the mansion's gym.

As a matter of fact, other than seeing him move some of his belongings in she hadn't really seen him at all. It's a fact that she's not all too happy about (and that makes her question her character because after all, she has a boyfriend), and it plagues her mind throughout lunch that day causing her to push her food around her plate absent mindedly.

"You okay, Rogue?" Kitty's quiet whisper brought her out of her thoughts, bringing her eyes up to meet Kitty's own. "You like, haven't touched your lunch. I don't think I saw you eat at breakfast, either. You feeling okay?"

She nods, pushing her plate forward. "Ah'm just not hungry, ah guess."

A shrill giggle catches both of the girls' attention and they quickly find the origin to be none other than Amara Aquilla, otherwise known as Magma, and Remy Lebeau. Amara was a beautiful woman from Nova Roma with big, bouncy, blonde curls. The current giggles erupting from her throat were caused by whatever Remy was whispering in her ear.

"So sleeping beauty turned out to be like, a total ladies man, huh?" Kitty noted in amusement, still looking over her shoulder to watch the scene.

"Guess so." Rogue replies, turning back to her meal.

_Yup, definitely not hungry._

* * *

Maybe it's his fault.

Maybe he should have never told her 'it's already forgotten'.

Perhaps what he really meant to say was 'it _can never be_ forgotten'.

At least, that's what it feels like. He had tried to shove all thoughts of Rogue from his mind. He tried avoiding her, ignoring her, and even so much as snubbing her, and none of it seemed to help. Any time he saw her, his fingers itched in memory of what they felt like dancing across her skin.

_Her skin._

Her soft, silky skin. Her skin that her own boyfriend won't touch. Her skin that no one will touch. A tragic waste of such delectable skin that no one will ever touch.

_Dieu_, he wants to touch it.

So when Amara Aquilla introduces herself to him on the way to the dining hall, he flashes her a charming smile. He lets her flirt with him, indulging her with an innuendo when the chance presents itself. By the time they enter the dining hall she's already giggling and looking at him like she wants to devour_ him _for lunch.

He's going to forget the skin that nobody touches. He's going to forget the way it felt under his palms, his fingers, his lips. He's going to forget it, and forget the owner, because he told her it was a long gone memory.

He's going to forget.

With that thought, when Amara twirls a blonde tendril around her finger and asks him why he came to stay at the mansion he licks his lip, leaning close to whisper in her ear. "Maybe I just like de view." She lets out an appropriately giddy giggle.

His eyes flicker to the table across the room and he catches sight of Rogue and Kitty staring at him before they turn back to their food. He feels something tighten in his stomach, spreading upwards to his chest.

When did he become so needy?

He doesn't like it.

_He doesn't like it._

He doesn't fucking like it.

He likes women. He likes kissing. He likes fucking.

So when the feeling spreads through his chest, he grabs a fistful of glossy blonde curls and kisses their owner hungrily. If he doesn't like something, he'll replace it with something he _does _like.

* * *

Emma watches as Rogue pulls away from her like a child who'd touched a hot burner. She watches as the hot tears threaten to boil over, and she slams her palms against Emma's desk in frustration before cradling her face in them. She's so frustrated, so _angry_ that she's shaking.

"Rogue, these things take time. As wonderful as it would be to wake up one day and have perfect control over your powers that's not _life_. Life's not fair, and the things we want most don't come without hard work and sacrifice." She's aware that the words don't come off as soft as Rogue may require right now, but she refuses to coddle the girl.

Nobody ever said life was fair.

If life was fair then Emma would have been much better prepared for life.

She would have never been caught by Stryker's men, nor would she have been taken to that god awful holding facility to be poked and prodded like cattle, her sister would have never had to work for that monster, and her sister would certainly not be _dead_.

If life were fair Logan would _remember _her sister.

But life's not fair.

She watches as Rogue lifts her head from her hands, the tears wiped away, the only evidence of their existence showing in her splotchy complexion and glazed over eyes.

"Ah hate this." The girl tells her. "Ah hate not bein' able tah control it. Ah hate hurtin' people. Ah hate absorbin' _you_, Emma. Ah feel lahke every time we try this, ah chip a little piece of yah off and put it in my pocket."

Emma tilts her head, grasping the younger girl's words. "You can't chip diamonds that easily, Rogue." She offers an empathetic smile. "We've already made spectacular progress Rogue. Two months ago, we couldn't touch for fifteen _seconds_ let alone fifteen _minutes._"

"Ah know, and ah think that's why it's so upsettin' that we seem tah be movin' _backwards_ instead of _forwards_. We only lasted for three minutes today!"

Emma pursed her lips, considering this. Yes, it was a setback. And yes, she can see why it might be terribly discouraging. However, she refused to believe that this was a direct result of control (or lack there of) that Rogue had gained in the past few weeks rather than from outside factors that were affecting Rogue's concentration.

As a matter of fact, Emma was pretty sure she could place her finger on it.

"Rogue," she started, "you need to give up your security blanket."

Rogue's eyebrows pulled in, clearly confused with what Emma was saying. "Ah'm not followin' yah, sugah."

"During times of change people tend to hold on to a certain person, place, or thing. This thing, what I refer to as your 'security blanket', is going to prevent you from moving on from your past. I very well believe that it's hindering you in your quest for control over your powers." Emma sat back in her chair pressing her finger tips together, "I suggest you find your security blanket, and then lose it."

Rogue seemed to think on this for a moment, "Well, what is mah security blanket?"

"That, darling, is an answer only you would know." She replied, getting out her chair. "Think on it, it may take awhile. I do believe we have a training session to get ready for though."

* * *

Pulling her hair up into a pony tail, she left her room hurriedly to make her way down to the danger room. She was almost to the elevator when a bedroom door opened and out waltzed Remy with a grin the size of Texas as he closed the door. She must have stopped walking and gaped at him, because when he looked up his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her.

It took her only a moment to realize it was Amara's door.

She had no clue why, but for some reason _she _felt embarrassed for catching him leaving a girl's room after doing god knows what. She felt the heat rise to her face, and she stepped around him with a quick _excuse me._

"Rogue," his voice called as she stabbed the elevator button repeatedly, willing herself not to get upset over the circumstances. He wasn't her boyfriend, he wasn't her _anything_.She had a boyfriend. She had no right to be upset. She wouldn't be upset.

She was _so fucking _upset.

"Chere?" He tried again, now right behind her as he grabbed her leather wrapped wrist. His eyebrows scrunched together when she ripped her arm away from him.

"Please don't touch me." She all but hissed at him as the elevator opened and she stepped in, hitting the button for the lower level. He stopped the door with his hand, stepping in with her.

"Where y' goin' dressed like dat?" He asked conversationally, taking in her black leather uniform. It brought things to mind that shouldn't be there. Things that were best left forgotten.

An aggravated sigh and a tapping to her foot as the elevator made its slow descent filled the air. "Not that it's any of yah business, swamp rat, but ah have a training session."

With a roll of his eyes, he brushed off her bad attitude. "Sorry I even asked. Didn't mean t' burden y' wit' my questions." He said sarcastically, suddenly antsy and wanting out of the elevator himself.

The speed at which she whirled around to glare at him startled him into stumbling back against the wall while she poked a finger into his hard chest. "No, 'course yah didn't! Yah don't try tah burden me with _anything _let alone yah questions. No, as a mattah of fact, yah can't even be bothered tah offer a hello!"

His own temper rose at her words and he snatched her offending hand, yanking it away from his chest. "Desole chere, but I do t'ink y' spend a whole lot o' time worryin' about whether o' not a homme says bonjour t' y' or not for someone whose faithful t' dey boyfriend." He spat angrily.

Her mouth closed, trying to come up with a retort.

"Den again, guess we bot' know y' ain't exactly de faithful girlfriend y'd like t' be."

He waited for a slap. When that didn't come, he waited for another lashing from that temperamental mouth of hers. That didn't come either. Instead what he got was ding of the elevator and such a pained look that it knocked the wind from his lungs and made him weak in the knees.

She pulled her hand from his grasp, and he almost thinks he saw her eyes tear up before she spun around and left the elevator. He went to follow her, taking a few steps into the hall before deciding against it.

"Gumbo," the familiar voice called to him, stopping him in his tracks and tainting his thoughts with a string of French obscenities.

Instead of flicking him off and leaving like he wanted to, he turned to see the other mutant as he shuffled his cards leisurely. "Oui?"

"How're your stitches healin' up?"

"Bien. De doctor says I heal at an accelerated rate. Don't even feel dem anymo'." His tone is bored and monotonous.

"Good, we're gonna acclimate you with the danger room today, get a reading on your skills." He knows the man's not asking and yet he still adds, "You good with that?"

His eyes flicker down the hall to where Rogue is, he watches as Jubilee asks her what's wrong. Kitty frowns at her in concern. For maybe the forth time since arriving, his eyes fall on Emma as she stares at Rogue intently. He looks back at Logan.

"Oui, I'm good wit' dat."

* * *

He watches her the entire time Logan explains the danger room to him. His eyes don't leave her for a moment as Logan explains that he's going to have Emma spar him because _those three are just kids_ he tells him, jutting a thumb over his shoulder. It's not until he feels Emma's eyes burning into him that he looks away from Rogue, at the blonde.

She looks livid.

This thoroughly confuses him. Aside from the odd night at the bar, he's never met Emma. He certainly hasn't done anything to offend her. She can't read his mind so…

_Oh._

She can read Rogue's mind.

He's seen them in the hall. Her and Rogue, heading to and leaving Emma's office. They're _amies_, he thinks, and now she looks positively enraged with the Cajun standing in front of her.

Good

because he's pretty mad at himself too.

So when she stomps out of the observation deck, making her way down to the heart of the danger room he follows her wordlessly. He's heard stories about this room, about its magical changing walls and realistic simulations. He waits for the scene to change, and it doesn't.

Emma's stretching, her fingers crack just by bending them.

Crack, crack, crack.

The speakers crack themselves, buzzing as Logan's voice comes through. "Alright, 3..2..1"

Emma wastes no time and it's his fault for underestimating her calculated attack that she lands a kick to his chest after flipping through the air. It sends him backwards, but his head is in the game now and it's a blink of an eye before he sends a whistling ace at her.

She flips again, a series of graceful back flips. Emma reminds him of a cat, her lean body moving elegantly through the air and still managing to look poised when her head whips back up to look at him. She's definitely trained in hand to hand, it's just a pity her telepathy can't do much for her. Not against him.

She lands another blow before he decides to give it his all. She aims a kick for his head, and he grabs the ankle instead, twisting it until she loses balance and hits the metal floor with a loud 'thud'. "Bein' angry jus' gon' make you sloppy, chere." It isn't until this point he recalls just how odd it was for Emma to seek him out in the club that night. Who told her about him? Rogue certainly didn't want anyone to know about him and her.

Her eyes flash. Crystal daggers, and they're aimed directly at him. "I don't _do _sloppy, darling."

She pushes her legs up over her head then surges them forward to spring to her feet. Ducking low, she spins once more taking his own feet out from under him and he has to admit, she's better then he expected. It makes him wonder why she's not an X-Man.

So he asks her.

"Why you no join de team, Emma?" He dodges a punch, throws a card at her that she narrowly misses. "Not a team player, maybe?" He hears her scoff in reply. "Don't like de limelight?" He knocks her into a wall this time.

He glances up to the observation deck, Rogue is the only one not watching. He tries not to think about it. He notices Logan's intense eyes, but only after a moment he notices with a smirk that the eyes aren't watching _him_.

"Maybe you jus' don't want t' see Logan get hurt? Is he yo' ami, Emma?" His voice comes out in a purr, and he's taunting her with what he thinks might be an answer.

Her eyes narrow into slits, and he can feel the amount of anger come off of her in waves.

"Did I strike a nerve, chere?" Why did she find him? It was so odd that she'd given him the address and walked off as if she knew he'd show up. Almost as if...

she worked with Mel Hardok.

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about, Lebeau. I suggest you shut your mouth before I shut it for you."

"What'll Logan t'ink?" He isn't talking about her 'affections' any more, he's talking about Mel.

Emma gives him a sickly sweet smile, and he watches in awe (horror?) as her body takes on a glimmering appearance; her skin sparking like a stripper at a New Years Eve party, and then the glittery flesh changes more, soon turning into solid diamond. Quality diamond, he would know.

This time, she lands the punch. And holy shit, it hurts.

It really fucking hurts.

She's hitting him, really laying it into him now, even has him pinned beneath her as she pounds into him relentlessly with her solid rock fists and he lets her do it.

He lets her do it because he thinks he deserves it.

And then he thinks _what the fuck is that? _How could he let himself feel so awful, so ashamed that he thinks he deserves to have the sense beaten into him?

He doesn't like it.

_He doesn't like it._

He doesn't _fucking _like it.

_Instead what he got was ding of the elevator and such a pained look that it knocked the wind from his lungs and made him weak in the knees._

He doesn't like _that_ either.

Finally, he grabs one of her stunning wrists, the stone cold beneath his touch. He licks his lip as he see's the anger painted across her face. Oh yes, he has certainly struck a nerve. Perhaps he's not the only one with ulterior motives.

And he watches.

He watches

he watches her glow pink.

All the fragments of her beautifully stunning diamond frame glow a mesmerizing magenta, and he can't help but think of that disco ball Bella Donna had in her basement when they were thirteen. Her body reflects the light, casting pink shadows on the walls and across his face.

"Don't even t'ink o' turnin' back t' y' flesh form, Emma. De moment de diamond o' yo' wrist turns t' flesh is de moment de charge ignites itself." His eyes are dangerous, flashing at her with equal animosity. "Y' know what would happen next?" He leans up from under her, watching her anger melt to fear. "De big kaboom."

He thinks she gets it now. He watches as her mouth closes, no nasty retorts to spit his way. He watches as her gaze lifts to the observation deck and he sees that Rogue's there now, her hands pressed to the glass and her mouth open in fear.

He pulls back the charge.

Emma gets off of him, her skin losing it's Cartier appearance as she breaks into tears. "You're a bastard, Lebeau." She says, exiting the danger room with a heavy heart and a sick stomach.

Emma's not an X-Man.

She's not an X-Man because she chooses not to be.

He's not an X-Man.

He's not an X-Man because he doesn't _deserve_ to be.

Then again, maybe she doesn't either.

* * *

"It was awful Bobby." Rogue swallows the lump in her throat. "You shoulda seen the look on his face when he did it. Like he _hated_ her. Ah… ah almost thought he was gonna do it." She wipes her eyes again, shaking as she lets the awful worry that had built in her stomach manifest into salt on her face.

Bobby holds her to his chest, cradles her head against him. Careful, always careful to not touch her skin. He kisses her hair, lets her cry. He'd heard about the danger room session. It was a split argument through the mansion. Some called Remy a sick lunatic, others applauded him for working with what he had.

Bobby was undecided.

"Rogue," He frowns as she looks up from his chest, her pain written across her face, "it's ok. Emma's okay."

She bites her lip, wiping her eyes with the back of her glove. "Ah know. Ah just… ah can't stop seein' her face, terrified and shining in mah mind."

Seemingly inconsolable, Bobby does the only thing he can think to

he kisses her.

* * *

"Ah know. Ah just… ah can't stop seein' her face, terrified and shining in mah mind."

The words cut through him even more than the feelings he felt erupt in his chest that brought him to the rec room to check on her. Her grief was so heavy, so poignant that he couldn't turn off his empathy if he wanted to.

He did that.

He hurt her.

He stands in the door way, deciding to leave when it happens.

Bobby touches the skin.

Bobby touches the skin that nobody touches.

And no matter what Remy does he can't forget the skin that nobody touches. He can't forget the way it felt under his palms, his fingers, his lips. He can't forget it, and he can't forget the owner. It can never be forgotten.


	8. Click

**AN: This chapter is a little light on dialogue, and rather it's giving you all a chance to see the inner thoughts/feelings of the characters in a way that might benefit you as the plot progresses. If there's one thing I know about where I'm taking this it's that the characters may not always be as they seem (or are they :O?)**

**Thank you for all the reviews. They're definately the main reason I get the chapters out as quickly as I can. Every review is a reminder that people are reading, and waiting.**

**bologna121 - Yes, Remy was definately going to grate on some peoples nerves last chapter. Chances are, you ****_will _****be seeing more of Amara (or other women) for a while because he's still single. He might have feelings for Rogue, but at present he doesn't ****_like _****having those feelings. His character is definately going through a troubling transition for him. After all, nobody ever taught him how to be good ;)**

**MistressInk - Thank you! I usually read, reread, re-reread over and over to catch my errors.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Click.

Click.

Click.

"If you'd like to keep that hand Pyro, I suggest you knock it the hell off." Mel seethed, her honey eyes narrowing into slits that spoke volumes more than her words. It's not that his (rather annoying) habit usually grated on her nerves, but today she was in no mood.

It had been a whole week since she had given Remy Lebeau her offer. It had been a whole week, and she was getting _very _impatient with him.

Here's the thing about Pyro: he doesn't do well with authority. He's not a team player; doesn't like to share; prefers to be the leader to the follower. Call it what you want but in short, Pyro ran out of a fuck to give a long, long time ago.

And to be perfectly honest,

Mel doesn't scare him in the least.

Click.

* * *

_"You will." She replies confidently._

_"And if I __**don't**__?"_

_Her lips pull into a smile and he notices the bell on the door ring quietly as someone exits the café to come stand behind her. "You remember Victor, don't you?"_

_This right here, this is something he expected. Indulging her with a toothy smile he leans back, puts his feet up, and crosses his arms comfortably behind his head. "Gambit don't scare easily, chere. Yo' chaton ain't gon' make me reconsider."_

_Victor, or Sabretooth, sneers at this. Remy resists the urge to offer him cat nip._

_Mel looks amused by him, leaning forward in her chair. "My dear Gambit, when are you going to learn? I don't do anything without a reason to. Victor isn't here to talk you into the job; I already know you're going to take it. Victor here, he's here to __**help you start **__your job."_

_Something in him changes at her statement. He pulls his feet down and sits up, leaning real close to her face to make sure she understands how serious he is. When the words come, they're dripping in venom._

_"Gambit spent deux years locked away wit'out even so much as the sight of daylight, and another countless years stuck under mon pere's thumb. Don't underestimate de lengths Gambit will go t' so dat he can hold onto his rights of freedom et choice."_

_A pleased-as-punch laugh erupts from her mouth as she throws herself back into her chair giddily. "Oh dear, if only you knew what I know. If only you knew."_

* * *

Remy gives Rogue the next three days to cool off. If he were being honest, he needed the time to think things over. Initially part of him had felt bad, guilty even, for what he'd said to her in the elevator. The other part, the more logical part, felt no remorse because of one simple fact:

what he said was _true._

It's an ugly truth, and he hates that she so obviously wishes it wasn't true. He hates that she regrets any and all of it. He hates that technically _he's _the one who started it all.

He's the one that kissed her at the club.

Then again,

she kissed him _back._

He's had a lot of time to think it over in the past three days. After three whole days of letting her avoid him he was going to confront her and talk this out. They needed to talk this out, and she needed to know

he's not sorry.

He's not sorry that he kissed her. He's not sorry that he rubbed it in her face. He's not sorry for any of it. The only thing he is sorry about is the fact that the truth almost made her cry.

Well, _maybe_ he's sorry about the Emma fiasco too.

It's with this knowledge, this affirmation of his lack of remorse, that he finds himself walking to her room. It's only as he's already mid knock that he remembers she has a roommate (the bubbly one), and he sincerely hopes it's not her that opens the door because _that_ would be an awkward situation.

The door opens

his gaze locks with the girl's confused stare. So he says the first thing that comes to mind,

"I'm sorry."

* * *

Rogue's surprised to find Remy standing on the other side of her door when she opens it. Her eyebrows knit together, and she's battling with asking him if everything's alright or tanning his hide for showing his face at her door after everything that had transpired.

He settles the battle for her.

"I'm sorry."

Those were words she hadn't been expecting to hear him say. Actually, she had no idea what to expect from him. Remy was so hot and cold all the time that he had her all different shades of confused. One moment he's flirting with her, the next moment he's ignoring her, the next he's being friendly.

Although, she supposes she's had her fair share of temperature changes too. And out of the two of them, she's the one who should be staying warm permanently. _She _was the one with a boyfriend.

Apparently she'd been lost in her thoughts too long for his liking because before she can reply he's speaking again.

"Remy shouldn't have said dose t'ings. It wasn't right, wasn't fair." He lets out an exasperated breath at her silence, pushing his hair back from his face.

Part of her enjoys that he's the one apologizing. The other part, the more logical part, knows that she's to blame too. She knows that her snippy attitude had led him to say what he did out of anger. She knows that the argument in its entirety comes down to one simple fact:

she had been jealous.

It's an ugly truth, and she doesn't like to admit it. She doesn't like that deep down she didn't like seeing him with another girl. She doesn't like that she feels this way because she has no right to feel this way. He's not her boyfriend, Bobby's her boyfriend.

He moves to leave before the conversation is settled, evidently tired of making a fool of himself, so she says the first thing that comes to mind,

"Ah'm sorry too."

He can't help when the corner of his lip pulls into a grin at hearing her apology.

"But ah also think yah owe Emma an apology."

And there goes the grin.

* * *

If Rogue had been putting all of her energy into avoiding Remy this week, Remy was putting twice that amount of energy in avoiding Emma.

It had little to do with the scene they had both caused in the danger room. Sure, that had sparked gossip and he had gotten a stern talking to from Stormy (and a compliment on his good tactics from Logan, he could hardly believe it), but to him the incident was in the past.

No, he was avoiding Emma Frost for an entirely different reason:

the woman was a bitch

and possibly (most likely, in his opinion) employed by Mel Hardok.

Which meant Emma Frost was not someone to be trusted. It might also mean that Emma Frost was not a person he wanted to cross (too late?).

So maybe charging the woman's inorganic diamond form and threatening to blow her to smithereens was a tad bit harsh; it was because of her that he knew where to find the X-Men anyways. She had done all in her power to get him to come here short of packing his bags and bringing him herself.

Again, he did not trust her.

Unfortunately, Rogue and she were amies. More unfortunately, he seemed to need Rogue's approval.

"Lebeau, I'd say finding you at my office door is a pleasant surprise but then I would be lying." Emma's voice was laced with arsenic when she opened her office door, arms folded across her chest in annoyance.

"Rogue wants me t' apologize." His voice is flat, bored with this task.

"Captivating." Hers is equally as un-phased.

"I'm not goin' t'."

A raised brow partnered with a mocking tone, "How will I get past this?"

He gives her a cheshire grin, leans against her door frame as he shuffles his cards. "Well, y' certainly will put on y' happy face when it comes t' Remy."

"You must mistake my happy face with my look of annoyance."

"I don't like y', Emma. I also happen t' know y' don't like me either."

"Your power of observation is astounding."

"I also happen t' know we don't trust one anot'er." He stops shuffling to meet her gaze, "Dif'rence 'tween you and me? You can't read m' mind, and I been taught since I was a boy 'bout not leavin' any evidence behind." He licks his lip, "But you? Everyt'ing I needed t' know 'bout y' was kept wrapped in a neat little package labeled 'confidential' in de X-Men's database."

"Impossible, those files were put together by Charles Xavier and only the head master of this school has the verification codes to see them."

"If y' say so, m' queen."

He watches the recognition cross her face. It's an image he wants to commit to memory forever. This image of Emma (the) Frost(y snow bitch) realizing that she has been outmatched.

In poker he might say read 'em and weep. For Emma, he feels this calls for something with a tad less flair. Instead he settles for

"Checkmate."

Her door slamming in his face is enough to tell him that she won't be bad talking him any time soon.

* * *

"Rogue do you mind going with me to pick Piotr up at the airport tomorrow?" Bobby's question grabs her attention away from Jubilee at dinner. It feels like it's been a life time since Piotr left.

"What time is his flight arrivin'?" She asks, taking a bite out of her dinner roll.

"Four P.M. although the flights are always running late."

She frowns before she answers, "Ah've got a session with Emma at three thirty, sorry."

Bobby nods with an understanding shrug. "No problem. What about you Jubes, you got stuff planned tomorrow?"

"Depends, are you guys going to be talking about A) Cute boys, B) Shoes, or C) The newest chick flick on that forty minute ride home?" Jubilee asked him from her seat across the table.

"No."

"I'm busy then."

Rogue laughed, shaking her head at Jubilee's answer. It was true though, Jubilee didn't do well around a group of boys unless it was a group of boys that she deemed 'dating material'. It's for the best that she didn't tag along. Her outspokenness paired with Piotr's demure behavior and Bobby's calm aura would not a good car ride make.

"I'll go with you, Bobby." Kitty piped in from the other side of Rogue. "Piotr and I were Skyping yesterday and he said he had a whole bunch of stories to share so I guess like, a long car ride would be a good opportunity anyways."

"Cool, we should leave at three just in case we hit traffic."

For once the memory of Bobby and Kitty ice skating didn't resurface to bother Rogue, and instead she was happy that it had worked out that Bobby wouldn't have to go alone. The one thing that did bother her though was

_why _didn't it bother her?

* * *

Click.

Click.

Click, click, click.

Kitty covered her mouth, holding back her giggles as she stared at her laptop screen. A minute later, her giggle turned into a chortle. Eventually, she broke into full hysteric laughter. Click, click, click. She typed on her laptop with a speed that could rival even the best computer hacker.

Oh, wait.

She _was_ the best computer hacker.

She was quite the techie indeed.

It was because of this truth that Ororo had put her in charge of the security surveillance, internet security and privacy, the biometric readers, and upkeep of the danger room computers. In short, Kitty Pryde was a very busy girl and a very smart one at that.

Rogue had returned to her room a few hours after dinner. She and Bobby had watched a movie in the rec room and she had showered and changed in time to witness her roommate's sudden attack of the giggles.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, it's Remy." Kitty replied, still shaking with the laughter she was trying to quell. "He hacked into our database."

"Why would he do that? And why is that funny?" Hacking into a confidential database did not sound like Rogue's idea of 'funny'.

Kitty seemed to brush off any of these worries though, adding "Storm thought I should talk to him about updating the security around the mansion, you know, because he told her he's got some expertise in that field, and we got into the conversation of protecting the mansion's online privacy also." Click, click, click.

"I told him I had it on lock, but apparently… well, he must have had some _serious _experience in that field to get through _my_ firewalls." She stuck her lip out, trying to look put out by this, but then she giggled again.

"He replaced the picture on Logan's file with a badger." She let out a snort.

Rogue chuckled at this despite her previous concerns.

"I wonder where he gained his hacking skills." Kitty thought aloud.

Rogue wondered too.

* * *

Logan liked to think he was a good judge of character. Aside from his gut instincts, his more feral instincts were generally useful in picking up on when someone was untrustworthy or deceitful. So you have to understand, that it _really_ chapped his ass that he actually kind of _liked_ having Gambit around.

Sure, in the beginning he didn't trust him considering the odd circumstances under which they met. And then there was the whole incident with Emma (of which he wasn't exactly sure what set them off). Then there was the fact that Gambit spent entirely too much time flirting with the younger (much too young for him, in Logan's opinion) students and X-Men.

But overall, he actually enjoyed the Cajun's company.

"Gumbo,"

Remy looked up from his seat in front of the TV, nodding in greeting at the Canadian.

"Oui?"

"Let's go grab a beer."

A pause.

"Ok."

* * *

_"I suggest you find your security blanket, and then lose it."_

Emma's words played over and over in Rogue's mind since she had told her. She supposes in theory that it would make sense. In theory, on some subconscious level, she was holding herself back from gaining control of her powers and she justifies it to herself by taking comfort in her security blanket.

Lose the security blanket; lose the urge to hold yourself back.

Now if she could only figure out what her security blanket _was_.

"What about your gloves?" Kitty suggested from behind her laptop.

"That's the only thing that really came tah mah mind, too."

She moves to look in her drawer at the rows of gloves that vary in length, color, and texture. It would make sense if it were her gloves. They were a precaution, a constant reminder of her inability to control her powers.

And yet that didn't seem right.

She lets out a heavy puff of air, blowing her white streaks back off her forehead.

Her gloves aren't a security blanket. She doesn't wear them to make herself feel comfortable; she wears them to make _everyone else_ feel comfortable. She mentally crosses them off the list.

Kitty can seem to tell what Rogue's thinking. She offers her a supportive smile and says the first thing that comes to mind,

"Next?"

* * *

Several hours, a few beers, three games of pool, and far too many phone numbers to count later is when Logan and Remy finally make their way back to the mansion. When he's not aiming his claws at him, Logan's company was something that he actually enjoyed.

They part ways in the hall, and he heads to his room to wash away the smell of the bar. Freshly cleaned, he pulls on a pair of pajama pants and tries to get some sleep.

He can't.

Instead, he gets up with a frustrated sigh he grabs the half empty pack of cigarettes and makes his way out onto the balcony. The air is cool, but not unwelcome on his bare torso. It's become such a habit that it's barely any effort at all getting onto the roof from his balcony.

He wouldn't be lying if he said he was surprised to find Rogue there. Then again, she'd probably been avoiding it because she was avoiding _him_ and now that they were on better terms there was nothing keeping her away from their shared roof solace.

"Nightmares again?" He asks while lighting his cigarette, trying not to smirk at the way she made a point to not look at him or at his bare chest in particular.

"No, just a lot tah think about." She replies, and even her voice sounds lost in thought.

"Y' wanna talk about it?"

Remy's never been this kind of friend to a girl. He's always been the friend with benefits, the friend dating their friends, or the friend who is their friend to get to their friend. He's only ever had a real, honest friendship with one girl

and that had ended with a marriage and exile.

She shrugs but he settles in the spot beside her anyways, forearms resting on his bent knees as the smoke blows away from them. He waits for her to talk.

"Emma's been helpin' me with mah powers."

This is something he did not know. Unfortunately, this was also something that worried him. It worried him because this would either mean that Emma is just as bad as he once predicted or because Emma is anything but what he predicted.

He wasn't sure which one he'd prefer.

"Yeah?"

"She says ah cain't move forward unless ah let go of mah 'security blanket'. She says it's somethin' that mah subconscious uses tah pacify itself for not gaining control because ah hold on tah it."

For once, he thinks Emma makes sense.

"What's yo' security blanket?"

"Ah don't know."

"Well if dat ain't Murphy's law…" He jokes, and he's happy she gives him an amused grin. "S'pose y' security blanket is de one t'ing y' know y'll have whether y' have control or not. Mebbe she be tellin' y' t' dye dat stripe of yo's, non?"

She rolls her eyes, smacking his arm with a gloved hand. "Very funny, swamp rat."

"Always aim t' amuse, river rat."

She smiles at the clever turnaround of the nickname she'd given him. "Ah didn't always have the stripe, yah know."

He raises an eyebrow, snuffs his cigarette out. "How'd y' get it, den?"

She purses her lips, taking a moment. "It was an incident involvin' the brothahood when ah first came tah the mansion. Magneto used me in an attempt tah harm the human race." She pauses, "Ah almost died."

The more he heard about this 'brotherhood' the angrier it made him.

"I better head back tah bed." She pushes herself up, mussing up his hair with a gloved hand playfully as she passes him. "Night swamp rat."

"Bon nuit river rat." He grins, pinching at her gloved arm as she messes his hair up.

* * *

Back in her and Kitty's room, Rogue settles into bed for the night. She's glad that her and Remy aren't on bad terms any more, being angry at him was exhausting. Besides, she found he made a good friend when she needed him to be.

_"__S'pose y' security blanket is de one t'ing y' know y'll have whether y' have control or not."_

Her heart froze, she knew her answer. It was clear as day

Bobby was her security blanket.


	9. Blue Eyes, Boston Accent

**AN: Just a small note for this chapter, guys. At this point I have to point out that the story might be seeming to move a little fast but let me stress, we still haven't even scratched the surface of the ****_main _****plot point/twist that will be taking up the majority of this fic. So while it may seem to be a lot to take in in these first few chapters, it's still only setting up a base for the meat and potatoes of the story.**

**As always, your reviews are super inspiring! The faster y'all review, the faster I post the chapters. I finished this chapter the same day I posted the last one, but I tend to wait so that I can get reviews on individual chapters to get a better understanding of what my readers do or don't like, or suggestions of what they'd like to see.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Blue eyes and Boston accent.

For days after meeting Bobby that's all she could think about, his blue eyes and Boston accent. His blue eyes looking at _her, _his Bostonian tongue speaking sweetly to _her_. Bobby had made her feel like a normal girl before she had even had time to think of herself as one. She was still reeling from the manifestation of her powers when she'd met Logan and ultimately ended up here.

Logan.

John.

Bobby.

Logan made her feel safe and protected; like someone had her back. John had talked to her a little, flirting with her before he knew of her powers. But Bobby, with those blue eyes and Boston accent, he'd made her feel like she belonged at the mansion. He made her feel comfortable in her own skin at a time when she was afraid of it herself.

Bobby wasn't like John or Logan.

She couldn't believe it when he asked her out fully knowing she couldn't control her powers. She had protested, saying that it wouldn't be fair to him. She'd told him she was scared of hurting him.

He told her the risk was worth it.

Never in a million years would it have ever occurred to Rogue that Bobby's out right acceptance and affection for her would cause her own self conscience to send the message to her brain saying 'Hey! This guy will accept me with my mutation, what's the point of controlling it?!' but after Emma's words about her security blanket

it made sense.

* * *

_"This... isn't what I wanted." Bobby furrows his brow and looks at her with disappointment._

_Her breath catches for a moment as she takes in his words and expression. "No, it's what I wanted." She takes his hand, skin to skin. He has to understand how badly she wanted this. How badly she wanted to be_

_normal._

_And not just Marie, the untouchable Rogue whose boyfriend __**treats**__ her normal. She wanted to __**be**__ normal. She wanted to experience life the way everyone else was able to._

_She wanted to love him properly with her heart, soul, __**and**__ body._

_Her ribcage feels like a prison to the rapid beating of her heart as she watches him lean closer, and she's not sure if it's because she's so excited or because she's absolutely frightened. But when his lips meet hers_

**_Oh,_**

**_Oh, it's worth it._**

* * *

"Ok, a four hour danger room session with Logan or a four minute make out session with Toad?"

"Eww! Haha, I'm totally going for the danger room session. I'd rather be sore all week then trying to get rid of any slime residue for a week." Kitty laughed, shaking her head as if it would get rid of the mental image.

For the past thirty minutes she and Bobby had entertained themselves during the car ride by playing This or That. It definitely made time fly.

"Ok, ok wait this is a good one," She looked sideways at him with a devious grin, "being locked in a room with John for an hour, or being locked in a room with Jubilee on a sugar high for an hour."

"Is anyone else in said room with us?"

She shakes her head no, an amused smile gracing her lips.

"John."

"Really?" This surprises her.

Bobby nods, glancing at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the road, "Yeah. I mean… John and I used to be good friends, _best_ friends, before he jumped ship." He scratches the back of his head uncomfortably. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish things would go back to how they used to be sometimes."

Kitty nods and she can't help but appreciate the fact that Bobby felt comfortable enough to open up to her about this. John was a subject he didn't really talk about, and Bobby and she weren't that close of friends when John was still at the mansion.

"Boxers or briefs?" She joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. She couldn't stop the smile that played at her lips when Bobby laughed.

* * *

Remy was working up a sweat in the mansions gym. He jabbed, hooked, and pounded his fists into the punching bag with quick, deliberate movements. Aside from his one danger room experience with Emma, he'd really been slacking on his workouts. Right now, he really needed to work off some steam.

After grabbing a cup of coffee this morning he'd gone to the mansion library to check his email. He found a bunch of spam, some e-bills, two emails from Henri, and one from an email address he didn't recognize. It had read:

**_To: lebeauRE12 _**

**_From: bh2240 _**

**_Subject: No Subject_**

**_Remember what I said. I'm becoming very impatient._**

**_M. Hardok_**

He thought he was going to blow the keyboard up he was so infuriated. Pushing aside that he had no idea how she got his personal email, her outright refusal to accept his answer grated on his last nerve.

When it comes to accepting or rejecting a job, his word is final.

"Somebody's relieving some stress." An amused female voice said from somewhere behind him. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk as he stopped the swaying of the bag, turning to look at the voice's owner.

"Oui," he grabbed his towel from the ground to wipe his brow of the sweat he'd worked up, "mais I can t'ink of better ways t' do it." He winked at her.

"Well, by all means, don't let me stop you." Amara purred, letting a delighted moan escape her mouth when he picked her up and melded his lips with hers as he carried her to the locker room.

* * *

"Yah knew the whole time. Yah knew it was Bobby all along."

Emma watches Rogue from across the desk. She watches the way her shoulders sink, her frame closing in on itself as she keeps her eyes to the floor as if her head was too heavy to hold up anymore. It's the sight of a girl who is internally battling every emotion she has, always worrying about which ones are right, which ones are _ok to feel._

"It crossed my mind as a possibility." She answered honestly. "I didn't want it to be, but it was a very plausible answer."

Rogue's eyes close in what Emma can only assume is an attempt to hold her together.

Such a troubled girl…

"Rogue?"

The girl opens her eyes and finally lifts her head to meet Emma's crystal stare.

"Hm?"

"How does that make you feel?" She hates to be reduced to a cliché of therapists who look for their clients to answer their own questions, but she finds the question is appropriate.

"Ah… don't know. Guilty?"

"I didn't ask how you felt you are _supposed _to feel, I asked how you _do _feel."

Rogue falls into a silence once again and her eyes sink back to the floor. It's a long time before she looks back with a hopeless expression painted across her features.

"I didn't ask how you felt you are _supposed _to feel, I asked how you _do _feel."

Emma's words tear at her insides a little bit. The telepath has a way of verbalizing what Rogue's feeling on the inside and making it very evident that she needs to express these feelings on the outside. She equates her relationship with Emma to be having a human form of your own wakeup call. She looks back at the floor as she tries to decide how it is she really feels.

She feels

_she feels selfish._

Not because her relationship with Bobby is very likely coming to an end; not because she's scared it might hurt him.

Because she knew

she knew since the moment he kissed her on the couch that day, in a comforting gesture to show her he was there for her.

* * *

_"This isn't what I wanted." He furrows his brows as guilt rushes through him. It's too much, she gave up __**too much. **__She gave up too much for him._

_He doesn't deserve it. _

_He __**wants **__to deserve it._

_"No, it's what ah wanted." He looks down as her pale hand takes hold of his, skin to skin. It's as soft as he had expected and it's not lost on him that she's so nervous she's shaking. It only makes him feel worse because she doesn't know_

_**she doesn't know**_

_she doesn't know that what he wanted to say was: "This isn't what I wanted, because I want someone else." _

_But he won't say it. He could never say it. Not now, not after how much she gave up for him. He wasn't sure when the lines blurred. He wasn't sure when his love for her turned into like for her, and now he wonders if it were ever really love at all or if they had just been young and naïve._

_Before the words he had wanted to say slip past his lips, he busies them with hers._

* * *

"Ah feel like it's time Bobby and ah were finally honest with ourselves."

"Rogue?"

She tilts her head in question, waiting for Emma to continue.

"I think you're absolutely right."

* * *

"Do you want to go out and grab dinner later?" Amara asks him as she pulled her wet tendrils into a bun after their rather steamy shower. Her lips are swollen from his kisses, and her face is still flushed from the hot water.

He tenses slightly as he pulls his pants back on, tying the drawstring of his workout sweat pants. This is something he was afraid of. "I don't t'ink we should, chere."

It's all fun and games until somebody gets attached.

He watches her eyebrows draw in, her blue eyes flooding with confusion (and maybe anger?) at his reply. "Why not?" He can tell by her tone that she's finally put two and two together, but she wants him to verify it anyways.

"Remy just t'inks dat if we start goin' out t' dinners, or movies, or t'ings like dat it just leaves more room for lines t' blur and messes t' be made."

Her sapphire eyes flash with anger, and again he thinks this is what he didn't want to put up with as she opens her mouth for the next part of the ordeal, "Oh, okay. I'm sorry. I just assumed that since we were sleeping together maybe you'd have the decency to actually pursue a relationship."

He reaches out, rubbing a rough thumb along her jaw line. "Chere," he tries to calm her, "we were never gon' be serious, we were jus' havin' a little fun. Remy t'ought y' knew dat."

The sting of her slap was expected, soon followed by the slam of the door as she left.

* * *

Rogue stumbled slightly when Amara barged out of the locker room right in front of her, stomping her way down the hall in an angry frenzy. She only had a moment to contemplate the blonde's mood when Remy stepped out of the locker room, his hair still dripping from his shower.

This time she wasn't the least bit embarrassed to walk upon the two lovers doing their walk(s) of shame, but she raised an amused eyebrow at his surprise to seeing her there.

"Lovers' quarrel?" She teased him with a slight smirk.

Glad that she wasn't going to get upset like last time, he returned the smirk with a "Haha, y're so funny petite." He followed her in the opposite direction of Amara as she continued on her way.

"Well yah certainly did somethin' tah piss her off. She nearly mauled me over."

He gave a nonchalant shrug, raking a hand through his wet locks. "Jus' a misunderstandin'. No big deal."

She glanced over at him in disbelief. "What kinda 'misunderstanding'?"

He licked his lip, buying time as he thought about whether he wanted to go down this path with her. In the end, he'd decided if she wanted to be his friend then he would talk to her like he would any other friend. "Seems me an' Amara got a dif'rent definition o' 'casual'."

She stopped walking to look at him, slightly confused. "Okay, and what were y'alls differences in definition?"

"A casual fling t' me is exactly dat, friends wit' benefits. Apparently fo' Amara dat means we sleep t'gether, den I'm meant t' want t' date her."

"Wait, so yah're tellin' me yah will sleep with her, but yah won't date her?" Her voice was full of disbelief.

"She knew dat we were jus' messin' around chere, it ain't m' fault if she ended up wantin' mo' den dat." He defended himself, suddenly itching for a nicotine rush.

"Dontcha think yah shoulda told her that _before _y'all did the dirty?"

He grinned at her phrasing and tried not to laugh when she glared at him for his amusement. "Chere, how's it any dif'rent me not tellin' her dat I don't want a relationship wit' her before we sleep t'gether and her not tellin' me dat she do want one before we sleep t'gether?"

She had to admit, he had a point. He had never told Amara that he wanted to date her, and she had never told him that she was ok with it being a fling, so they were both equally guilty of deceiving the other. It didn't stop her feeling bad for Amara, though.

"What're y' doin' right now?" He asked her after they started walking again.

"Ah just finished mah session with Emma. Figure ah'll just watch some TV until Bobby and Kitty bring Piotr home." She answered with a shrug.

"When dey gon' be back?"

"Probably around five, why?"

He checked his watch, it was only ten minutes until four. "Y' wanna grab a late lunch?"

She thought it over. Her first instinct told her that it wasn't a good idea, but at the same time she liked having Remy as a friend and she didn't want to push him away by constantly refusing to hang out with him without other people around.

Well, aside from the roof top chats.

"Okay, sure."

"Alright, I'm gon' go change. Meet y' downstairs in ten." He told her, turning and heading to his room.

* * *

"PETEEEE!" Kitty let out a shrill giggle, launching herself into her Russian friend's arms. "We totally missed you at the mansion! Did you like, have a good time back home?"

Piotr smiled, hugging Kitty back before releasing her to nod at Bobby in greeting. "I very much enjoyed being home, Katya." He replied as the trio made their way to baggage claim.

"The mansion just wasn't the same without you, man." Bobby said, grabbing one of Piotr's duffle bags as it passed on the conveyer belt. "You missed a lot of action, too." He added.

Piotr nodded, "Katya told me about the fundraiser on the skype."

Kitty giggled at Piotr's broken English as the boys grabbed the last of his bags. "You'll have to tell us like, all about it on the ride home." She said as they put his luggage on a rolling cart. Climbing atop a sturdy bag, she pointed forward. "Onwards we go!"

Bobby and Piotr shook their heads in amusement, and pushed the cart towards parking.

* * *

"Can ah ask yah a question?" Rogue inquired after they ordered their food at a quaint little diner ten minutes from the mansion.

Remy was curious as to what she could possibly have to ask him and never the less leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Shoot."

"Where'd yah pick up yah hacking skills?" It was something that she and Kitty had both been wondering last night. She knew Kitty was very skilled when it came to computers, and if Remy was able to get past her firewalls that would make him exceptionally skilled in that field also.

Well, that certainly wasn't what he had expected to come out of her mouth. Then again, he shouldn't be so surprised. He knew Kitty was her friend and roommate, and a chatty one at that.

"Truthfully?" He took a sip of his coffee, "'m not sure y' gon' like de answer."

She didn't reply, but waited for him to continue.

He sighed, knowing she wouldn't drop it. "Remy grew up in New Orleans, like he told y' when we first met." He enjoyed the way her cheeks flushed at the memory, "Never knew m' real parents none. Dey abandoned me when I was too little t' remember. Grew up on de streets tryin' t' just get by; did a lot of stealin' t' stop from goin' hungry."

When he glanced at her to see how she was taking it her face didn't reveal much, so he continued. "One day I ended up pickin' de wrong pocket and got caught. Didn't know dat it was de pocket of de head o' de thieves guild. Anyways, long story short, Jean Luc was interested in me cause m' eyes so he took me in hopin' dat'd turn into somet'ing down de road."

Another sip, a glance in her direction.

"It did, obviously. He raised me as one o' his owns, taught me de way o' de guild. Remy was a thief Rogue. Stole money, jewels, even t'ings on computers from files t' bank information. Dat'd be where Remy picked up dat particular skill." He finished.

She took a moment to let his story sink in, taking a sip of her water. "Is that why yah left? Yah didn't want to steal anymore?"

He gave what she could only assume as a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "Non chere, dat's not it. But dat's a story for anot'er time."

She didn't like that he'd had a shady past, but at the same time she had no right to judge him. After a moment though, her eyes widened as she realized something. "Is that why yah knew about the art gallery at Warren's?!" Her stomach tightened, hoping she hadn't been an accessory to grand theft.

"Are you askin' if I stole de gem?"

"Do ah want tah know the answer?" She asked hesitantly.

"Remy don't have de gem, chere." Technically, it was the truth he'd told himself. He _didn't _have the gem and if telling her that was a way of avoiding the truth while not necessarily lying, it was a route he was willing to take.

That seemed to put her at ease and when she smiled at him as their food arrived, he returned the gesture.

* * *

Bobby's car was in the garage by the time they'd gotten back from their late lunch. She froze beside the vehicle, looking at it as if it would hold the answers for her.

It didn't.

"Chere?"

She looked up to meet Remy's concerned gaze from where he waited at the door for her. "Y' okay?" When she didn't respond and instead turned her gaze back to the car, he closed the door and walked back to her side.

"Rogue, what's wrong?" He tried again, looking at the car as if would hold the answer for him.

It didn't.

"He's not an imbecile, yah know?"

Her words had surprised him because they had come out of nowhere. Of course he knew what she was referring to. The 'he' she was referring to was Bobby and he had deemed Bobby an imbecile on their first meeting, a fact that Rogue had adamantly protested. It was just odd for her to bring it up so unexpectedly.

"You would know better den me, chere." He grabbed her gloved hand, trying to gently direct her towards the door and away from the car that seemed to be upsetting her. She didn't budge.

"Ah'm not just bein' the defensive girlfriend, he really isn't. Bobby's a good guy, Remy. He's a really, really good guy." Her voice broke a little as the verbal diarrhea spilled out. "He's always been a good guy, and ah took advantage of that."

By this point, her emotions overtook her and she started to shake with sobs. Remy was at an absolute loss, not knowing how to react. He did the only thing he could think to

he hugged her.

He hugged her, and he let her cling to him as the sobs shook throughout her body. He wasn't sure if her sudden outburst was a result of the guilt she held from what had happened between him and her or if it were something else entirely. What he did know was that she needed a friend, and right now he was that friend.

"Shh, shh petite." He whispered soothingly into her ear. "Y' can let it out."

Her arms wound around his waist as she cried into his chest where one of his hands cradled the back of her head while the other rubbed her back calmly. "He's such a good guy…" she whimpered.

"I know petite."

It hurts somewhere deep in his chest. It's a similar feeling to the neediness he'd felt in the dining hall that day, a feeling he'd forcefully pushed aside so that he could be what she needed; a friend and not a lover. It's a dull ache that swells with each cry she lets out.

A cry she lets out for Bobby.

Who is a good guy.

Remy's not a good guy.

_Nobody ever taught him how to be good._

* * *

She's not sure how long Remy held her in the garage as she cried tears she couldn't explain to him. It had to be somewhere between twenty to thirty minutes before she'd calmed down enough to let him go with an awkward _ah'll talk to yah later_ as they parted ways.

So she's not entirely surprised when Kitty's face looks horrified when she spots Rogue first from inside the rec room. "Oh my gosh Rogue, are you okay?" She asked her in shock as she started to get up from her seated position.

Bobby turned to look over his shoulder and he too got up in a hurry, scared at the sight of Rogue's teary red eyes. "Rogue?"

"Ah'm okay, Kit'." She replied, nodding for the girl to sit back down. "Bobby, can we talk?"

Kitty sits back down next to Piotr, and the two of them look at Jubilee who looks equally as shocked and concerned about the current situation. The three of them obviously try to preoccupy themselves with anything but Rogue and Bobby at that moment.

"Yeah, of course." Bobby replies in that Boston accent of his, following her out of the rec room.

* * *

"Rogue, what is it? Why were you crying?" Bobby's baby blues fill with worry as he places both of his hands on her shoulders, trying to get her to look at him.

Blue eyes, Boston accent.

Good, sweet Bobby.

She lets go of the anger she'd felt over him and Kitty. She lets go of the bitterness she felt the day the cure wore off. She lets go of all of it, because how could she ever live with herself if she was upset with Bobby of all people?

"Ah," she bites her lip and she has to clench the material of her shirt over her heart because _god _it hurts. It hurts so badly, and she doesn't think she can make the hurt stop. She's not sure if this is the biggest mistake she'll ever make, but she knows one thing for certain

Bobby doesn't love her.

And while the thought in itself is enough to shatter her heart, it's not the only thing that has her so worked up.

She's not sure if she loves Bobby either.

As a matter of fact, she's almost one hundred percent sure she's only in love with _the idea_ of loving Bobby; because Bobby's safe.

Bobby's a warm blanket on a cool night; he's ice cold water in a barren desert.

And it's this thought, this awful, terrible, selfish thought that has her crying now. She's crying because she's been so bad, so wrong to him. She's been bad to Bobby who is the epitome of good.

She's not a good person.

She _wants_ to be a good person.

"Yah don't love me." She says, and it's only after his mouth drops open that she realizes he's scared that she's crying because she's mad at him so she hurries to continue. "Yah don't, Bobby. An' that's okay, that's completely okay."

"Rogue," his voice is pleading, "I do love you. I do, Rogue." His blue pools are desperate, trying to read her face.

Blue eyes, Boston accent.

She shakes her head no, and her gloved hand comes to rest on his cheek. "Bobby, we fell outta love a long time ago. Ah'd suspect before ah got the cure, even." She notices something (guilt?) cross his features. "We just were so scared of hurtin' each othah, neither of us could come tah realize it."

"Rogue…" He tries again, although with less determination. He knows she's right, that they had lost their love a long time ago. It didn't mean he didn't care for her deeply. "I _do _love you. I'll always love you."

She gives him a watery laugh, a sad smile spreading across her face. "Ah know," she nods and she even believes it. "Ah'll always love yah too, Bobby. But we ain't _in love_ anymore. It ain't fair for me tah hold ontah yah when ah know your heart isn't in it."

"I was the security blanket, wasn't I?" He's come to the realization himself, what with her telling him all of this so suddenly. He doesn't sound offended, but understanding.

She bites her lip, and nods. "Technically. But ah'll never see yah that way, Bobby. Ah could _never_ see yah that way."

It's hard, falling out of love. When a relationship has simply run its course and come to an end that didn't end with happily ever after, or even worse, didn't end with fighting and bitterness, it's exceptionally hard.

Very little can compare to pain that the mutual understanding of feelings that have run their course and faded over time causes. It's a dull throb in their chests, a painful reminder that things just didn't work out.

"Ah didn't mean tah hurt yah."

He believes her.

"I didn't want to hurt you, either."

She believes him.

He runs his hand back through her hair, tangling at the nape of her neck. Closing her eyes, she leans in to give him possibly the most emotionally raw kiss they'd ever shared. She lasts two minutes before she pulls away, scared her powers are going to come into effect because of the emotions running through her.

"Friends?" She asks him hopefully.

A smile.

Blue eyes, Boston accent.

"Always."


	10. What The Hell Was That?

**AN: Hey guys, not much to say for this chapter. I just wanted to thank everyone for their reviews. Also, I noticed that almost all of them had the same recurring theme that I wanted to address:**

**The Romy is almost here! lol.**

**Be patient my lovies, rushing into a relationship never makes the ride as fun! That said, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

The only thing keeping him company on the roof tonight is the swirling smoke of his cigarette and a head full of unanswered questions. The most predominant of them being

_What de hell was dat?_

No, really. What the hell was that?

Everything was going fine between him and Rogue. It seemed that she had been able to move forward, leaving whatever it was between them (sexual tension, he would say) in the past. She didn't freak when she saw him and Amara part ways, she had been perfectly fine during their car ride to and from the diner. They even shared pleasant conversation at the diner.

Again,

what the hell was that?

It was as though as soon as she had gotten out of the car with him and saw what he now knew as Bobby's car, a tidal wave of guilt washed over her. He knew that he'd struck a nerve the other day when he told her she wasn't exactly the definition of a faithful girlfriend, but he never knew that the mere kisses that had taken place what seemed like ages ago were still affecting her self-conscience in such a way.

He's barely snuffed out his cigarette before he's lighting another one, his nerves are all kinds of worked up and in need of some kind of relief.

Fact: She regretted giving into temptation at the fundraiser.

Fact: She was in love with Bobby.

Fact: She felt guilty for kissing Remy behind Bobby's back because she's a good person.

He wishes he was a good guy. He's not. He's a very, very bad guy.

That's why he's still thinking about how it felt to hold her while she cried. His body tingles at the memory of her burying her face in his chest and her arms around his waist. Only a bad guy would enjoy having her body pressed against him while she's seeking comfort because of the guilt she feels for the _very same reason._

While he's on the tangent of how he's not a good person, the answer he was looking for finally dawns on him. He doesn't know what the hell that was

he doesn't know what that was because he's_ never _felt guilt for lying, for cheating.

Because he's not a good guy. He's never been, and may never be a good guy.

_"Ah'll talk tah yah later…" She mumbles after she finally composes herself enough to stop crying. He's not sure what to do, what to say, so instead he nods dumbly while she walks away._

He doesn't want to admit it, but he had hoped she would come up to the roof tonight. While it obviously wasn't a logical hope, considering the state she'd been in, he had hoped they really would talk later.

She's not coming.

* * *

_"Remy?" _

_He turns towards the delicate voice knowing full well who it is before his eyes fall upon the blonde hair pulled into an intricate twist; the blue eyes that are looking at him with a hope of disbelief._

_She __**hopes**__ that she can __**believe**__ the lies that come from his mouth. Because believing a lie would be better than admitting the truth: he was sleeping around._

_"Belle," her name comes out in a well practiced purr. This is a scenario he's lived a hundred times, each time easier than the last. You tell them pretty words, feed them pretty stories and they somehow seem to forget (ignore) that you were in fact flirting with the girl she caught you talking to._

_You give them pretty lies so that they will believe you weren't trying to talk the pretty face into inviting you into their bed._

_"Who was she, cher?" He watches her eyes trail over to the now empty seat beside him where the girl (Lacey? Lexi?) had been sitting. He wonders for a moment if that girl is going to make it home safe or if Belladonna has already made a call._

_It wouldn't surprise him._

_He shrugs nonchalantly. "De fille was askin' 'bout de city. She on vacation." The lie twists itself so easily he thinks he might even believe himself as he lights a cigarette, inhales the good cancer and exhales it with a sly grin. "Why? Y' worried Belle?" _

_He's off his stool now, leaning against the bar and giving her his best seductive look. His free hand braces her hip, his thumb rubbing circles there before he leans forward, close to her face. "Y' know Remy love only you, chere."_

_He's so close she can taste the bourbon and cigarettes from his breath as her eyes search his, wanting to believe him. "I know, Remy."_

_She doesn't know_

_she doesn't know that he loves her. What she does know is that he's her betrothed._

_Those girls may get him for a night, but she'll get him forever. That's good enough for her._

* * *

Rogue had skipped dinner tonight, still full from her late lunch and not wanting to face everyone after her friends saw her in the state she'd been in. Instead, after her and Bobby parted ways she'd gone to her room and crawled under the covers.

She was still there.

The breakup had gone as smoothly as it could have. She and Bobby had finally come to terms with something they should have realized a long time ago: they weren't in love. They loved each other, sure, but that wasn't the same. Bobby's heart had belonged to someone else (whether Kitty knew it or not, Rogue wasn't sure anymore), and she had selfishly ignored the signs because she didn't want to lose the only boy who had ever made her feel special.

She didn't want to be alone.

It was clear to her now that the anger she'd previously felt towards Bobby for his relationship with Kitty was a way to justify holding onto him when her heart wasn't in it anymore either. No, ending it was right, fair.

He'd be able to move on with Kitty, if Kitty would have him.

And Rogue, she'd be able to…

she didn't know what she'd be able to do.

This brought up a whole new set of unsettling questions that she didn't have answers to. Like for instance,

_what the hell was that?_

In the midst of her revelation (breakdown?) in the garage, that she'd have to do right by Bobby by letting him go, she let Remy comfort her as she cried over the end of her relationship. He let her cry into his chest, and he had spoke soothing words into her ears; some in English and some in French. He told her to let it out, so she did. She let it out for twenty whole minutes.

And the thing is

the _sick _thing is

in the back of her mind, she enjoyed having his arms around her. In the back of her mind, she was glad that Amara was mad at him and that she and Bobby were coming to end. In the back of her mind she had hoped…

"Rogue?"

Kitty's voice pulls her out of her thoughts and after a moment of wondering why she hadn't heard the door she makes the obvious connection that her roommate doesn't _need_ to open doors.

"You okay?" She feels her bed sink slightly, and finally turns to see the petite girl sitting at the end of her bed with a concerned expression. "I heard about what happened." Kitty won't meet her eyes as she adds for verification, "About Bobby."

She pushes the covers off her chest and straightens to sit up, facing her friend who has busied herself with memorizing the pattern of her bed set. The breakup happened hours ago, but she knows her eyes must still be red and puffy because the tears hadn't stopped even though she knew this was what she wanted; what he wanted.

"Do you like, wanna talk about it?"

She does.

She does want to talk about it, but she can't find the words. How could she possibly explain this to her, to Kitty, of all people? Her best friend, her roommate, the girl that Bobby had actually wanted but pushed away out of respect for Rogue.

_Ah hopes it isn't too late for them. _She thinks with a frown. It'd be a shame if they never got to have their fair try because she had taken so long in coming to terms with reality.

"Ah love Bobby, Kitty."

The suddenness of her statement draws Kitty's attention away from the pattern of Rogue's comforter and to Rogue's face instead. She's not sure if her face gives away the sudden sense of fear that she feels in the pit of her stomach. _Did Rogue know? She couldn't know._

"Um, yeah?" Kitty stutters awkwardly, trying to fill the conversation.

"Yeah. Ah love Bobby, but ah'm not in love with Bobby." She sighs, looking at her gloved hands. "And Bobby ain't in love with me, eithah."

"Bobby totally loves you, Rogue." Kitty's eyebrows are pushed close together, trying to reassure her friend of the Bostonian's affections for her.

"Ah know Bobby loves me, Kit. But he ain't _in love_ with me." She bites her lip, wondering if she should step in or let life take its own course. "He's in love with _you._"

A pause partnered with a shocked, guilty look.

"Oh."

* * *

Bobby grabbed a soda from the fridge before passing Logan who was on his way in while he was on his way out. He'd just gotten out a '_hey Logan', _before the gruff mutant grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him with him, plopping a bewildered Bobby in one of the chairs.

Logan put one foot on the seat of another chair, leaning his elbow on the bent knee as he lit the cigar in his hand and brought it to his lips. "Spill it, icecube." He demanded calmly after letting out a puff of smoke.

It may have happened only just before dinner, but news travels fast in the mansion and Logan had exceptional hearing. Word was: Bobby and Rogue broke up. Seeing that Rogue hadn't showed up at dinner, he could only assume it wasn't exactly a clean break.

"Logan, I really don't think-"

"I didn't ask what you _think_, Drake. I asked you to tell me what _happened._" His voice was stern but not angry. After all, he wasn't Rogue's father. He was her friend, and as her friend he wanted to know exactly what kind of mess Bobby had left that he'd need to help Rogue clean up.

"We broke up."

"Well, no shit."

Bobby's face turned from bewilderment in the beginning to incredulousness by this point. "She broke up with _me_, Logan."

Well _that_ wasn't what he was expecting.

"Did you cheat on 'er?"

"No." Bobby's voice was exasperated.

"Lie to 'er?"

"No!"

"…are you batting for the other team now?"

"Ok, now you're just being a jerk." Bobby said, getting up with an eye roll when Logan smirked at the last question. "We just mutually decided it wasn't going to work. It was completely amicable, I swear."

"Alright then. Sorry about that, kid." Logan shrugged indifferently as he put the cigar back in his mouth and watched Bobby exit the room shaking his head in slight amusement.

* * *

"Kit?" Rogue asked after the brunette didn't say anything else afterwards. "Kitty?"

"Are you… are you mad?"

Her eyebrows knit together, and she thought about it. She used to think she was mad. But now? Now it seemed silly to be mad over her best friend and her boyfriend falling for each other. Now she knew first hand that no matter how much you wish you could, you can't _make_ your heart feel the way you want it to.

"No, ah'm not mad."

She watched relief wash over her friend and Kitty finally looked up to meet her eyes, the look of guilt still written across her face.

"I'd never, I mean, like, I wouldn't date him-"

"Kitty," Rogue interrupted her before she could even get her words straight, "it's okay. Ah know that it's definitely an… odd situation, but ah'm not, and won't be mad if yah and Bobby do end up dating."

It wasn't until Kitty lunged forward, wrapping Rogue in a hug (with complete disregard of the potential threat of their skin touching) with slight cries escaping her that Rogue realized that she had absolutely, without a doubt made the right decision in breaking up with Bobby.

It had never occurred to her

how much their outgrown romance had an effect on _Kitty_ also.

It's with this knowledge, this appreciation for the kind of love that both Bobby and Kitty had for her, a love for her that ran deep enough that they had put their own feelings aside in exchange for her own, that she wrapped her arms around Kitty and cried too.

It occurred to her that with friends like them, she was never going to be alone in the first place.

* * *

The next day at lunch, the others had a hard time wrapping their head around the 'amicable breakup' that Bobby and Rogue tried to explain to them when questioned about the prior day's rumors.

"Hold on. Home girl say _what_?" Jubilee asked, raising both her left eyebrow and left side of her upper lip in a disgruntled, confused expression. "You mean you two just decided 'yeah, we're done'. Like a business transaction? As simple as 'would you like fries with that?'"

"Yeah, don't exes usually glare at each other and act all spiteful?" One of the other students, Tabby or 'Boom Boom', asked in amusement.

Bobby tried to glare at Rogue but when their eyes met they couldn't help but to burst out laughing.

Piotr had stayed quiet about the subject, believing that amicable or not, it was Rogue and Bobby's business and he didn't want to pry. Kitty also didn't comment on it with the others, but exchanged happy smiles with the former couple.

The idea of a 'Bobby and Kitty' coupling was still up in the air, where it was likely to stay for awhile. Despite the odd circumstances that the trio of friends were under, Bobby still felt that it would be moving too fast if he asked Kitty out so soon. Still reeling from the breakup of her two friends and the knowledge that Bobby returned her feelings, Kitty appreciated having the time to get her head straight.

Once the initial shock over the announcement settled in, the conversation went on to other subjects, for which Rogue was happy about.

She laughed as Piotr told stories about being back at home, and Jubilee rambled on about a cute guy she met at the mall. The air was light and happy, and it was a welcome change from the stress, worry, and bitterness that she had let seep in for weeks prior.

"Chere," Remy pulled her out of her thoughts when he leaned down by her ear. "Y' got a minute?"

Turning her attention away from her group of friends she looked up at him with a nod before quietly dismissing herself and following him out into the hall. "What's up, Remy?" She asked him, sticking her hands in her back pockets.

"Y' feelin' better?" He asked after studying her for a moment. She seemed to have done a complete 180 since the last time he'd seen her.

She moistened her lips, letting them leave her mouth with a slight 'pop' before she nodded. "Yeah, ah am." What could she say? It was evident that he was worried about how she'd acted yesterday in the garage and truthfully, she was embarrassed he had been there to witness it. "Ah'm sorry about yester-"

"Rogue," he startled her when he stepped forward and grasped her elbow, his hair falling around his jaw line as he looked down at her, "I jus' want t' make sure y' okay. Dere's no need t' be embarrassed."

She wanted to deny that she was embarrassed because him knowing that she was only embarrassed her _more_ but she knew it was a pointless argument. He'd once told her he had the ability to feel people's emotions (empathy, she thinks he called it), so she knew he would know she was lying if she denied it.

"Yah're a good friend, Rem'."

He liked that.

He liked her appreciating his friendship. He liked that she didn't push him away when he stood too close. If Bobby was her boyfriend, then at least he'd be able to be close to her as her friend.

He was her friend

and she trusted him.

He could smell her shampoo due to their close proximity. He could see her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. He was mere inches away from her and _dieu, _if it didn't feel like a hundred miles. All he wanted to do was claim her lips with his and-

he won't.

He won't because she trusts him. She trusts him to be her friend, and as her friend he won't put her in a spot that will make her feel any guiltier than she already did in regards to her boyfriend.

"Remy…?" She looked at him, confused when he never replied, but just continued to stare. Something in her chest fluttered a bit when she thought she saw the red of his eyes flicker.

She must have imagined it, because then he says

"'m runnin' late," and backs away from her, walking backwards in the opposite direction.

Watching him in confusion at his sudden change of demeanor, she nods when he lands the finishing blow,

"Got a date." He lies, hoping it will make up for the way he was looking at her with unabated want. He sends her a wink for good measure, to play if off playfully before he turns around and walks off.

Her mouth opens and closes as she watches his retreating form.

_In the back of her mind she had hoped…_

It didn't matter what she hoped.

She and Remy were just friends.

* * *

The rest of the week had progressed as normal. It must have been five days after the breakup that Logan finally asked (see: demanded) Remy to join in on the team training sessions per Ororo's request. At first Remy had hesitated, but Stormy had told him that he had been with them long enough to settle in and that it was time for him to highly consider joining the active X-Men team.

_"That, or you could teach a class." She said with a knowing grin._

_"I wonder if m' trench is gon' match de uniform." He had answered her hastily. Teaching teenagers would be much worse than fighting bad guys while dressed in leather suits._

It did.

Oh boy, _it did_.

And by the looks on the girls faces as he entered the danger room, the myth about girls finding men in uniforms more attractive was _definitely _true. Jubilee's mouth pulled into a smug smirk as she checked him out without shame. Kitty recovered quickly, looking away from him with a blush. Stormy raised an eyebrow at his obvious amusement. Rogue was

completely ignoring him?

Instead, she was talking to Emma.

Who apparently was coerced into joining the team too.

_Fuck me._ He inwardly groaned, dreading having to spend any more time with the blonde then he had to.

He didn't realize he'd been staring at the two until Bobby joined them, throwing an arm around Rogue's shoulder before giving Emma a big smile. "So, you guys making more progress since you talked Rogue into _dumping me_?" The blue eyed mutant teased Emma.

_Wait une minute… what?_

Rogue looked up at Bobby, a smile spreading across her face as she wrapped an arm around his waist with a chuckle.

Emma just rolled her eyes, although the smile was evident. "You'd like that, wouldn't you Bobby?"

"Rogue gaining full control? Absolutely." He said, shaking the shoulder his arm was over slightly.

"No, I meant blaming _me_ for your breakup." Emma and Rogue laughed as Bobby exaggeratedly rolled his eyes, laughing as he shook his head.

From watching this interaction, there were three things that Remy gathered.

1) Rogue and Bobby were no longer a couple.

2) It was _Rogue_ who broke up with _Bobby_.

3) Remy had _put himself _in the friend zone.

_Merde._

As Logan started going over the simulation details all Remy could think was

_What de hell was dat?_

* * *

Remy had to hand it to Emma,

while he might have forced her hand into keeping her mouth shut about him, she certainly was able to make up for her frustrations by taking it out on him in the danger room. As a matter of fact, it was the ample opportunity to make him miserable and she had plenty of opportunity to do it because

Logan made them partners.

_Asshole._

The Canadian had smirked at Remy and Emma cockily as he paired people up for the session that day. He could hardly hide the amusement in his eyes when he'd told them it was _to promote camaraderie within the team _and that _you two's fight can't affect the team, bub. _In short, Remy thought that Logan

was being an asshole.

A fact of which him and Emma had actually agreed on. When they informed him of this, he'd simply let out a snort with a _well it looks like it's already workin', then._

So naturally Frost, with her 'ever forgiving' personality, let Remy watch his _own _back. In short, Remy thought that Emma

was still a bitch. But that's not news.

What _is _news is the fact that she had rolled her eyes at him when, at a point where they were in no danger of flying projectiles and lasers (which by the way, what the hell was that?), he had asked what was up with Rogue and Bobby's breakup and how did she have anything to do with it.

_"Ask her __**yourself **__Cajun, I've done far more then my fair share of trying to make this work in your favor." Emma sneered, looking over her shoulder to be sure that no one and nothing was going to put __**her **__in the line of fire._

_He raised his eyebrow, wondering what she was talking about. "Yeah, cause y' __**so obviously **__have tried t' play match maker." The sarcasm dripped from the statement as he rolled his eyes._

_At this point, he thought Emma was going to break a mauler with the way she was grinding her teeth. "You have no idea, Lebeau. If only you knew what I know. If only you knew." She said as she walked ahead of him, apparently bored of putting up with him and wanting to find the others. It's only because of the fact that she can't read Remy's mind that she didn't know those words had struck a chord and_

_and that Remy wasn't having it._

_He grabbed her wrist and yanked her back towards him, slamming her roughly into the wall. His eyes blazed angrily, grabbing her chin tightly._

_"Gambit's tired o' tip toein' around de obvious Emma. What do y' know about Mel and what de hell are y' doin' 'ere?" _

**_Crack._**

_The room spun as he gripped his own jaw, doubling over from the force that she used when she gave him a right hook with a sparkling fist. She was quick to shake it off, sending it back to its flesh state (Emma didn't have to learn a lesson twice)._

_"I have **no **__clue what the bloody hell you're talking about, Lebeau! I don't know who Mel is, but I do know if you put your filthy hands on me one more time I'm going to __**shatter**__ every bone in your revolting body!" She screeched, infuriated with him. "I don't know why you're so against me, Lebeau, I really don't! You make me regret ever going to that hole in the wall club to invite you here! And to think I thought your presence would __**benefit **__Rogue! You've done nothing but be a bloody pest!"_

It was at that point that Remy finally put the pieces of the puzzle together.

Emma didn't know Mel. Emma _never_ knew Mel. Emma knew who he was, where he was, and what he was because of _Rogue. _She must of read Rogue's mind during one of their sessions.

So you have to understand how much it really hurt his pride that after he processed that a) Rogue had been thinking about him after that night despite what he had previously believed, and b) that Emma had come to that club for the sole purpose of bringing him here to see Rogue again in the hopes that it _would _work out between him and her, that he had been completely wrong about Emma the entire time.

Emma wasn't a bad person at all.

Emma was anything _but _a bad person.

Emma was a good person.

He had never known that she had just been trying to add a little bit of white to her paint.


	11. Games

"Stop it Bobby, I'm serious!"

Kitty can barely keep her giggles in check as her friend (boyfriend? _it's complicated)_ nuzzles his face into her neck from their lounging position on the couch. Here she is, trying to have a serious conversation, and _now_ he wants to act like they're dating.

Which they aren't.

Well, kind of aren't.

Okay, so totally are. _Whatever_. Kitty thinks, mentally rolling her eyes. It's not like it was a surprise to any one. And the important thing is that nobody got hurt in this rather odd transition. Even Rogue took the news (kind of news) well, offering a knowing grin and _'bout tahme _when her room mate told her during a very awkward 'girls night' conversation.

The very 'girls night' that had lit somewhat of a spark in Kitty's brain. Something she'd noticed during all the playful banter, and chatter over bowls of popcorn and Twizzlers, but before Jubilee had accidentally lit an _actual _spark that singed the very couch she sits upon now, and the girls made a run for it before Logan could find them red handed.

What was she getting at?

_Oh yeah._

"Tell me you haven't noticed it." The brunette says, pulling away to sit facing him from the opposite arm rest, her eyebrows raised in a 'you know I'm right' demeanor.

Bobby lets out an indulgent sigh/huff/laugh. "You're crazy, Kit. I haven't noticed a thing."

"Oh come on Bobby! It's like, totally right in front of us!" She says, a hand jutting out in front of her as if the said scenario would form right there in her very palm. "They're always hanging out, and not just when we're all in a group, and they like, tease each other, not to mention the total _sexual tension_." Her sentence came out faster with each word.

Bobby just shook his head, laughing under his breath. "Next you're going to tell me Emma and Remy have feelings for each other too. And at least _that_ would be more believable."

"Are you sure your absolute denial of the obvious isn't just because you still have feelings for Rogue?" Kitty asks, jutting her lip out in an annoyed pout and crossing her arms across her chest.

Amusement erased itself from Bobby's features immediately, instead etching an image of disappointment (hurt feelings?) "Kitty, I don't 'still have feelings for Rogue'. At least, not in that way." He placed a reassuring hand on her knee, "I just don't see what you see. I don't think Rogue and Remy like each other in that way at all. But hey, maybe I'm just not around them as much as you."

Kitty's pout lifts slightly into a trying smile. "You promise it's not your feelings?"

"Trust me." Bobby says, brushing a brown strand behind her ear.

* * *

Remy's been stuck in many awful places before.

Just a few places that come to mind might include Essex's lab, Three Mile Island, the receiving end of Bella Donna's fury. And yet not a single one of these compare, not in the slightest,

to the friend zone.

_Dieu, _he hates the friend zone.

That awful area that he once believed was nothing but an urban myth. An excuse to pacify his less suave peers, to lessen the bruise to their egos when a girl just wouldn't take up with them. It isn't until he finds himself stuck in this awful _hell _that he realizes that it was most certainly not a myth.

What bothers him even more than finding himself in the friend zone when he desperately doesn't want to be, is the fact that Rogue seems to undeniably _enjoy_ having him as a friend. As a matter of fact in the time since her and Bobby's break up Rogue had seemed to lose any and all romantic or sexual interest in Remy it seemed to him.

And that _almost _bothers him as much as the fact that Emma _really _seemed to enjoy this.

"Somethin' t' say, Frost?" Remy bit out at the blonde who was grinning in her usual cocky demeanor.

"Me? Nothing at all. Thanks for asking." Emma replied in her sing song accent, yet her grin didn't disappear.

"Den why, pray tell, are y' smilin' like dat?"

"Like what?"

"Like de cat dat ate de canary."

"I'm sorry luv, I can't understand what is 'dat' and 'decanary?"

Remy let out a flustered huff of annoyance, sitting back in his chair with an eye roll. He wasn't going to play into Emma's little mind games today. Even despite his change in opinion towards the girl, he still couldn't stand her. Unfortunately, this is another down side of the friend zone:

spending time with your friend's friends.

"Hey, sorry, the line was long." Rogue said, pulling her falling purse strap back up over her shoulder once emerging from the bathroom and finding her two companions seated on mall benches.

"No problem, luv. Remy just offered to carry our bags, isn't that sweet of him?" Emma said, standing up and holding Rogue and hers shopping bags out towards Remy.

"Tha' is really sweet. Thanks Rem!" Rogue said, her smile spreading in appreciation.

Remy exchanged a sickly sweet smile with Emma while trudging behind them with their bags.

* * *

Three clothing stores, a book store, and a stop at the food court later the trio's time at the mall seemed to be drawing near its end as they headed back towards the entrance they had came in at. Despite sharing the better part of the day with Emma, Remy had enjoyed the time spent with Rogue.

"Last chance chere, we be passin' de Victoria's Secret again." Remy (half) joked, nudging her shoulder with the elbow bent over the back of his shoulder holding their bags. His wink was met with an eye roll and a smile.

"Single girls don't need tah be buyin' pretty underwear, swamp rat."

"Like hell!" Emma stopped walking, her jaw dropping indignantly. "If anything, single women should be buying _tons _of pretty underwear."

Remy raised an eyebrow. For the first time that day he might agree with Emma.

"Emma got a point, chere."

"What point?" A fourth voice joined the mix.

The trio turned their attention towards the masculine voice and it took a moment for Remy to remember where he'd seen him before.

"Warren!" Rogue smiled, exchanging a hug with the new addition.

Warren returns the hug and grabs her hand as they pull apart. "Hey, no gloves!" He notes happily, recalling their last encounter.

She smiles bashfully. "Emma helped me out. Took awhile, but ah finally got it down."

Something flicks across Warren's face when he smiles and tells her how proud and happy he is for her.

Remy doesn't like it.

Remy likes it even less when Rogue tells him yes, she'll call him later, and no, she won't forget, and haha, she promises.

He _loathes _it when she finally decides to enter Victoria's Secret, much to Emma's amusement.

* * *

One could say that Logan has years worth of wisdom trapped in that adamantium skull of his.

Sure, he doesn't remember a huge chunk of those years, but it's still buried deep in there somewhere. It's that wisdom that's hidden within his mind and the wisdom that he's gained even after the memory loss that you could say aids his instincts. He sees things that go unnoticed by others. He knows how to read a situation before it unfolds and turns into something ugly. But when it comes to life within the walls of Charles Xavier's mansion

Logan doesn't get it.

He doesn't get how these kids go about their classes, their training, dressing up like super heroes one day and saving the world and yet still have time for what he likes to refer to ass 'teenage drama'.

_Glad I don't remember those years, _he tells Ororo during dinner one night as they take in the atmosphere of the dining hall.

"Oh come now Logan," She replies with a coy smile. "The teenage years are the most formative in a person's life. Even despite the inevitable emotional roller coaster that is almost always driven by hormones."

"Isn't it a little odd that they seem fine with dating their friend's hand me downs?" He asks with a raised brow, referring to the Rogue/Kitty/Bobby debacle.

"Oh Logan," she starts with growing amusement, "look around you. This is the X-Men. If there's one thing we do more often than time travel and come back from the dead, it's randomly hook up with each other."(1)

* * *

"You playing, man?"

It's on his way back inside that Remy crosses paths with Bobby, who is clad in sweat pants and a wife beater and on his way out. The younger man stopped only briefly to offer an invite.

Remy raises an eyebrow, curious as to what it is that they're playing. "What's de game?"

"Power ball." Comes the female voice of Tabby, who is apparently also on her way out in a pair of shorts and a tank top. Remy's not sure what her power is, but he assumes it's something of the explosive nature considering the girl often answers to the code name of 'Boom Boom'. She tosses a basketball to Bobby as she passes and heads out side.

"What's power ball?"

Bobby grins, as if this should be obvious. "Basketball, no powers barred. All's fair."

He weighs the invitation. There's no training today, and he doesn't have any plans set in stone yet.

"Meet y' outside in ten."

"Cool." Bobby replies, giving the ball a bounce before heading outside.

* * *

Power ball, it seems, is an exciting event at the X-Men's mansion. Remy discovers this when he takes in just how many of the residents are outside and ready to play when he joins them. He had expected the usual younger members like Bobby, Kitty, Tabby, Jubilee and Rogue but was surprised to find Emma, Rahne, Piotr, Sam, Quentin and even Logan and Ororo dressed to play.

Almost as surprised as he was to find that apparently Warren decided to visit today.

Remy makes his way over to the court, taking a spot next to Rogue who's leaning against one of the hoops. She smiles at him when he nods in acknowledgment.

"Like de shorts, petite." He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at her jokingly before turning his head to look at the center of the court from beside her. It took some coaxing from him and Emma to get her to purchase them. Despite the new found control she's gained, Rogue was still apprehensive with showing too much skin.

Her grin spreads from ear to ear, and she rolls her eyes, smacking his arm. "Oh shut it, swamp rat." She drawls in a playful manner that does nothing but egg him on.

He licks his lip, turning his head to face her and leaning closer to her ear. "Can't help it chere. Seein' y' in dose shorts bring back mem'ries of a certain dress."

The flush that seems to spread across Rogue's face and neck causes a deep chuckle from him. With Bobby no longer in the picture, he's determined to remind her of exactly why he shouldn't be in the friend zone.

"The rules," Logan starts as he tucks the basketball under one of his arms, "is there are no rules."

"Within reason!" Stormy interrupts him, ever the responsible one.

"Right," Logan exchanges a knowing grin with the younger members, "within reason. Me and 'Ro are gonna be team captains. Stripes, you're with me."

It comes to no surprise to anyone that Rogue's first chosen for Logan's team. It's became clear to Remy since he's joined that the two have a tight bond. Something he'd even equate as something close to a father daughter or protective brother like bond.

The pickings go on and when it's all said and done it ends with Logan's team consisting of Rogue, Piotr, Rahne, Sam, Jubilee and Emma and Stormy's team consisting of himself, Bobby, Kitty, Tabby, Quentin and Warren.

Stormy blows a whistle, and the game starts.

* * *

Rogue is relieved when Logan chooses her first. It's a clean getaway from Remy who was starting to stir something in her gut that she had tried to bury when he cemented their relationship as a friendly one. The memory of the night at the gala and particularly the time she spent with Remy that night quickly causes her temperature to rise and butterflies to stir.

_That boy is more confusin' than followin' along tah one of Mr. McCoy's lectures. _She mused, taking a place beside Logan.

She's not sure if she's thankful when Storm picks him for her team or not, but what she is sure of is that he's intently staring at her. The way the red in his eyes seems to flicker when they meet hers unnerves her, and she has to look away.

"You never called, you know."

Warren's voice catches her attention, bringing her stare towards the winged mutant. It takes her a moment to realize he's right, she forgot to call him after their run in at the mall. She offers a bashful smile, along with a _sorry, it slipped mah mind._

It's really a sight, Warren with no shirt. And no, she doesn't mean it in a way that Jubilee would, drooling over the man. But rather the way his wings are free to spread, not hidden by any barrier. She's always been fascinated with his wings, running a finger along the side of one just like the night of his gala. She lets out a little surprised shriek immediately followed by a laugh when he opens them unexpectedly.

"It'll take me a little time, but I suppose I can forgive you." He jokes, amused by her surprised laughter.

"Oh, yah are so kind." She drawls sarcastically, with a playful eye roll. "What brings yah here today anyways?"

"I had to have a discussion with Logan and Ororo. She asked if I wanted to stay and join the game when we were done. Sounded fun. Guess I better join my team." He adds after Ororo calls his name. "You gonna remember to call me this time?" he teases.

" call tah rub it in when yah team loses."

She likes the way her playful banter seems to amuse Warren, his eyebrows raising and grin widening.

What he says next takes her by surprise.

"We'll see about that. How about when _your _team loses you let me take you out to dinner this week, you know, to raise your spirits over the traumatic loss."

It's at this point she realizes that Warren is flirting with her, and that perhaps she had been flirting too.

Perhaps she had been flirting first.

"Guess yah better win then." She replies before the whistle blows.

* * *

A rain storm, four ice slides, seven explosions of some sort, and countless oddities involving all of those involved's powers later and the game was tied with four minutes left and Jubilee had the ball. Soaked, dirty, and half exhausted mutants continued to play up and down the court.

Ororo cut Jubilee off half way towards the basket, grinning as she blocked the younger girl from passing. Thunder answered in retaliation to Jubilee's crackling hands over the ball, a playful threat towards each other. After a look at all of her options, she passed the ball to Rogue who was most often the least guarded due to her lack of an offensive power.

Narrowly missing a wipe out by jumping over one of Bobby's ice puddles, Rogue took off up court. Readying for a point, she quickly had to pivot and protect the ball when Remy came out of nowhere.

"Got une minute left, chere." He spoke from his position towering behind her, making quick swipes to grab the ball to no avail.

"Better beat it cajun 'fore ah get antsy and use mah power on yah." She warned jokingly, looking over her shoulder. "Winnin' the basketball game worth bein' laid out?"

It's at this moment she can feel his stance change, no longer trying to block her or stop her from progressing towards the basket, but rather leaning his chest even closer into her back and the next words come out of his mouth wrapped up in a tone that she can't decipher as either husky or demanding, "Haven't I told y' before, girl? I can handle de pain."

Her heart stops for a moment, and she falters with her dribbling. Rahne whizzes past them, taking the ball towards the complete other end of the court but Rogue seems frozen as Remy steps away from her, not moving to join in on the game. He just stares at her for what seems like forever before the cheers and shouting of Ororo's team indicate that Rahne did in fact make the winning basket.

* * *

Time is clicking on the timer as the game draws closer to an end and Remy doesn't miss a heart beat when he sees Rogue take off down the court with the ball. She's fast, but he's faster, more agile and he can tell he caught her by surprise when he cuts her off.

He smirks when she pivots away from him, trying to protect the ball, and he takes the opportunity to get closer.

"Got une minute left, chere." He taunts her, trying to get the ball by reaching around from behind her.

He watches the coy look cross her features as she replies with her own taunt, "Better beat it cajun 'fore ah get antsy and use mah power on yah. Winnin' the basketball game worth bein' laid out?"

His whole demeanor changes at her words, the game no longer important. Winning no longer important.

Nothing is no longer important aside from her.

He presses closer to her back, his voice low as he drawls "Haven't I told y' before, girl? I can handle de pain."

He feels her tense, watches as her mind seems to wander away from the game too and Rahne doesn't miss a second as she scoops the ball up, running down court. He takes a moment to step away so that she can get back in the game if she wants to.

She doesn't move.

He stares at her, her hair a mess and her wet clothes sticking to her body due to Stormy's little rain episode earlier. He stares at her and he can tell

he can tell that the friend zone might be a myth after all.

His team starts cheering, alerting him to their victory, but he doesn't move to celebrate. He doesn't move to join them in their high fives or laughter.

He moves towards her in a quick stride that doesn't seem to phase her, entangling one of his hands at the nape of her wet mop of hair, leaning in so close that his lips brush her ear as he speaks.

"Remy's done playin' games, chere."

Her face turns, removing his lips from her ear and causing them to barely drag across hers and yet she makes no other movement but to close her eyes but he takes it as an invitation and ever so gently closes her lower lip in between his, eliciting a small whimper from her throat.

He moves to take her lips again.

She roughly shoves him away from her, her eyes painted with bewilderment.

"Rogue?" He looks confused by her sudden change in demeanor, and starts to move after her when she takes off back towards the house, only to stop himself and wonder what the hell just happened.

Instead, he looks back over to their oblivious friends celebrating the end of the game.

* * *

**AN: Where do I begin? First, thank you, thank you, thank you to all of the reviewers who have encouraged me continue. Thank you for the patience of the all the readers that might still be sticking with this story after such a long and unexpected hiatus. Thank you for not hating me for disappearing like that.**

**Most of you don't know, but I'm planning a wedding that's almost here. I've been promoted. I've had several very difficult things come up recently. There's thousands of reasons as to why I haven't been here, but not one of them is a good enough reason. The most important reason would have to be that with everything going on, I'd sit and try and try and try to get this chapter out and it wasn't doing it. It wasn't magical. The writing didn't fit. The puzzle was off it was just not right.**

**This chapter still isn't right. This chapter is flawed, grammatically, characteristically at times, stylistically with flow, and pace wise. It was so important to me to get this chapter out there and done with because my muse has me itching, and itching for the progression of this story and this chapter HAD to get out for me to continue writing the story and the style of the story the way I want to. So please forgive the lack of finishing work on this chapter, and know that I will absolutely be updating at the same speed I was originally, busting these bad boys out.**

**I'm so happy to be back and writing on this story. Please review, and thank you for sticking with me.**

1 - Wolverine and The X-Men #024


	12. Knowing

"This is bullshit."

Mel hardly spares a glance to her left to acknowledge she even heard Pyro. Lately his whining, no, his _bitching _has really grated on her nerves. Does he think she's not growing impatient? Does he think she doesn't want this whole ordeal to go faster? Does he think she doesn't want to get her long, slender fingers around Gambit's neck and wring it until he complies?

Well, she does.

_Oh, _she does.

"He's playing us." Pyro hisses. "He's playing us and I know it, you know it, and he knows it."

He's not talking about Gambit.

Mel can't stand it when Pyro talks about things he shouldn't. She can't stand it when Pyro talks about things as if he knows.

He doesn't know.

He can't.

He can't know like Mel knows.

Mel knows everything.

"He's not playing us." Her tone is monotonous, refusing to use any inflection that Pyro will read in any way he sees fit. Running his hand through his tresses tells her he's frustrated. That's the thing with Pyro

he's readable.

Pyro's readable, irritable, and impulsive. If she didn't know that despite his fiasco, things would have turned out the way they did...

well, it doesn't matter.

Mel always knows.

* * *

When it comes to women, Remy knows everything.

He knows what makes them tick, smile, cry, moan, shout, and fall.

He's not too proud of that last one.

A few too many broken hearts have been caused on account of him. Sometimes it wasn't his fault, but simply a girl who wouldn't pick up on his hints. A girl who wouldn't take no for an answer. A girl who thought she could tame him; fix him.

Sometimes it was his fault. Belle was his fault.

He loved Belle too. At one point.

Loved the way she laughed. Loved the way she smelt. Loved everything about that blonde haired, blue eyed assassin. He was so head over heels for that girl he did something reckless, and stupid.

He married her.

The only thing that made that a stupid decision, _well,_ aside from her family, was that while Remy loved her he wasn't _in love _with her.

Couldn't be.

At least, he doesn't think.

Love's supposed to be this all encompassing thing, non? If he'd been in love with Belle, there wouldn't of been the other girls on the side. There wouldn't have been the late nights. There wouldn't have been the lies.

There wouldn't have been her broken heart only more grieved by what unfolded the day of their wedding.

Regret.

Belle regretted falling for him.

Remy regretted it too.

Either way, Remy knows everything about women.

Except Rogue.

When it comes to Rogue, Remy doesn't know _une god damn t'ing._

Like, for instance, why she had suddenly shoved him away as if he burned her earlier. Or why she'd run off without saying a word. Or why he hasn't run into her the rest of the whole god damn day.

For once, Remy thinks that maybe he doesn't want to know.

* * *

"This totally blows."

"I do not understand, how is that this blows?" Piotr eyebrows knit together in a look of deep concentration, trying to interpret Jubilee's meanings behind her words. Surely, there's nothing blowing in the kitchen that he can see.

"Aww come on Petey, Jubilee's just speakin' american teenager, aintcha Jubes?" Sam Guthrie, otherwise known as Cannonball, clarifies.

Jubilee can't help but laugh at poor Piotr's confusion, slapping him on the back with a soapy hand. "Yeah Piotr, it's a saying. As in having to clean the kitchen totally bites." At his further confusion she tries again, "Uh you know, sucks. Isn't fun."

"Oh! I understand. The situation 'blows' because our team lost, and cleaning the kitchen is not fun." Piotr verifies, happy that he understands the new phrase.

Rogue actually chuckles at this, scrubbing the inside of the fridge.

"Well if it ain't miss grumpy pants finally making a peep." Tabby teases, brushing her blonde fringe out of her eyes with the back of her glove clad hand. "Sorry Pete, more american teenager." She says, causing the Russian to shake his head in defeat rather than try to decipher that one.

"Ah ain't miss 'grumpy pants'."

"Uh, ah dunno Rogue, yah have been kinda glum during this rather excitin' cleanin' assignment." Sam teases, putting dishes back in the proper cabinets.

"Sam! Aintcha supposed tah be on mah side? What kinda southern camaraderie is this?" She jokes, shooting him a mock glare.

"We're turning you into a yankee yet, Sammy boy!" Tabby says, spraying the boy with water.

"Awww come on now Tabby, ah just cleaned the floor!" Sam complained, earning another spray at his face.

A gruff cough in the door way catches their attention and Logan is looking at them with an odd look. "Aintcha supposed to be _cleanin' _rather than makin' a bigger mess?"

"Hey now," Rogue stands up straight and puts her hands on her hips, "why ain't you helpin', Logan? Yah _were_ team captain, after all."

"Yeah Wolvie! Aren't you always saying that a team is only as strong as their leader?" Jubilee adds, a smirk spreading across her features.

"Nice try, but it ain't gonna work kid." He says, taking a chug from his beer bottle before placing it on the counter.

"What're yah teachin' us if yah don't take part in our failures as well as our triumphs?" Rogue teased, returning to scrubbing the fridge.

"Try harder next time?" He tried to hide the laughter in his voice, accepting his beer bottle from Tabby. "Thanks,"

"Oh, trust me, no problem, man." Tabby said, taking a few steps back.

Logan hardly had time to raise a suspicious eyebrow before the bottle burst in his hand with a distinct 'BOOM', spraying alcohol every where.

If looks could kill, then the room of younger mutants would be dead.

Well, if they weren't all too preoccupied with laughing to notice.

* * *

"Have you been _drinking_?" Kitty asked in disbelief when Rogue entered their shared room, the smell of alcohol permeating the air.

Rogue let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "Tabby had a little fun with Logan's beer bottle, don't ask." The amusement it had brought all of them had definitely made the extra hour worth of cleaning worth it, but Rogue was most definitely ready for a shower and some rest by now. The day had been long and exhausting, in more ways than one.

Kitty took her word for it, and didn't ask but instead seemed interested in talking about a little interaction between Rogue and a certain male.

"So, spill."

Rogue's eyebrows lifted, her face flushing slightly. She didn't think any one had noticed, at least when she spared a glance before heading back inside earlier it seemed like they were all wrapped up with the end of the game excitement.

"What do yah wanna know?" She asked, uneasily. She wasn't even sure if she'd be able to explain what happened.

"What do you mean what do I want to know?" Kitty asked in a shrill voice, rising out of her criss crossed position to kneel on her knees. "I totally saw you and Warren flirting earlier, I want to know like, all the details. I never knew you had a thing for him. Well, I mean, I guess you were still with Bobby whenever we'd run into him, so maybe it's a new attraction. But either way, I want to know!"

Relief settled in her stomach. To be honest, after the whole thing with Remy she'd completely forgotten about her earlier talk (flirtation?) with Warren.

"Oh." She said dumbly, pulling her bathrobe out of her armoire. "Ah think he asked me to dinner, actually."

"You _think?_"

"Well, ah mean, he said if his team won he'd have tah take me tah dinner." She said, realizing what an ass she must of looked like for disappearing after his team won. "But ah totally forgot tah even talk tah him about it afterwards."

"Yeah, I noticed you kinda disappeared actually." Kitty commented, looking at her friend curiously. "Did you not want to go to dinner with him?"

"No, ah do." She paused. "Ah mean, ah think ah do. Ah don't know."

"I think dating again would be good for you, you know. I mean, yeah I know this whole... Bobby thing is kind of weird, really, I do, but you _did _just get control over your powers so this whole dating thing could be a whole new world for you." Kitty paused, giggling. "Plus, then we could totally double date."

"Ah think you're right, Kit."

She just didn't know _who _she wanted to date.

* * *

When it comes to the number of things that are Emma Frost's fault, Remy's lost count. Personally, he'd like to blame pretty much anything unfavorable that happened in the mansion on Emma Frost.

Can't find your hair brush? Emma's fault.

Got caught cheating on your math test? Emma's fault.

Somebody eat the last piece of cake you hid in the back of the fridge? Emma's fault.

Coming to the mansion and taking part in one of the most aggravating, confusing, heated courtships of your life? Fully and completely all on Emma's shoulders.

But le pièce de résistance? The very thing that Emma is most accountable for, that has him pacing back and forth with a cigarette between his lips on the roof tonight? That fault of Emma's merely took place a couple of hours before, during the team training session.

* * *

_"Mon dieu Emma, dontchu ev'r watch where y' goin', girl?!"_

_Remy's accent seemed undeniably thicker and more pronounced when he hissed at his blonde partner angrilly. Training is never a pleasure seeing as he's been paired with practically his arch rival, but today she was really on her a game in terms of pissing him the fuck off. They've barely been running this team sim for an hour and she's already called attention from a sentinel, nearly had her head blasted off, and worst of all_

_the back of his trench got singed when he covered her back, seeing as she is incapable of doing that herself._

_And he **loved **that coat._

_"Well if I weren't so busy trying to get the hell away from you-"_

_"Y' ain't supposed t' be gettin' away from m', or have y' a dif'rent definition f' 'partners'?" He snapped, sending a whistling four of clubs past her._

_"I don't need a partner, certainly not from the likes of a low life, uned-"_

_"Frost!" Logan's gruff voice cut her off (thank dieu). "What the hell is goin' on with you two? You've been doin' nothin' but close calls this whole time. You even get close to takin' one of them down?" He asked, jutting a thumb over his shoulder where some of the others were grouping together to take down a sentinel._

_Emma stuck her nose up indignantly, "What do you want me to say, Logan? First, you force me to join this little team **against my will, mind you, **then you pair me with this... scoundrel."_

_Remy's fingers twitched, whether out of want for a smoke or to stop himself from charging that ridiculous uniform of hers he wasn't sure. "She got a point, Logan. Dis ain't workin'. We ain't gon' play nice and make up."_

_He watched as Logan bared teeth on one side of his mouth like a dog while simultaneously raising an annoyed eyebrow and looking over his shoulder. "Fine, Stripes!"_

_His shout called the attention of Rogue and Colossus, the partners jogging over to see what the Canadian wanted with them._

**_Dis ain't gonna end well._**

_"You guys are switchin'," He said, waving his finger between Remy and Piotr. "Seems Frost and Gambit can't settle their differences."_

_"Thank god, finally someone capable." Emma said, linking an arm with the metal mutant. "Sorry luv," she gave Rogue her condolences, "but I just can't put up with the swamp thing any more."_

_"It's fahne." Rogue replied, her eyes downcast and unwilling to meet any of theirs._

_"Toodles Gambit." Emma said, waving an indifferent hand in the air as she sauntered off behind her towering companion, taking on a diamond form that gave the duo quite the amusing look._

_"Alright you two, I ain't takin' any excuses for bad performance due to new partners, so get to it." Logan said, waving them off back to the chaos. "Dammit Jube, what'd I tell you?" His shouting trailed off as he headed off in Jubilee's direction._

_Remy could swear that the silence between them shattered even the sounds of explosions, laughing, or teasing going on with the rest of their team. Here they were, stuck as partners (again, thank dieu de wicked witch is gone) and she wouldn't even look at him let alone say anything._

_He doesn't get it._

_She's not so sure she gets it either._

_He breaks the silence._

_"How you and Petey goin' about takin' dem down?" His arms are crossed, he tilts his head in the direction of the last fallen sentinel. When she finally makes eye contact with him his stomach clenches,_

_he missed her._

_He doesn't like it._

_He doesn't even know what he did wrong._

* * *

_"How you and Petey goin' about takin' dem down?"_

_It's as if Remy's voice breaks her out of her thoughts, drawing her attention in his direction. They hadn't talked since the (confusing) incident. She takes the blame for that. She ran off like a puppy that just got yelled at for eating out of the trash. Confused, and upset._

_It's only when he raises an amused eyebrow at her that she finally answers him, realizing she was just staring._

_"Borrowed some of Pete's powah." Her skin takes on the metallic properties of her former partner._

_"Bien, den shall we get t' it?"_

_"Suppose we oughta help 'em out," She jokes, looking over her shoulder at Jubilee and Bobby getting yelled at by Logan. "'fore Logan turns his eye on us, 'least."_

* * *

_Her feet make a distinct 'clink' noise as she walks, the metal weighing her down and making her movements almost robotic. He doesn't get it, because supposedly her and Piotr were partners before, so he'd think she'd have quite the handle on his powers by now. _

_"Not used t' de new powers, chere?" He asks, when they get cover by a nearby brick wall._

_"What's that s'posed tah mean?" The offense is evident in her voice, if not unwarranted._

_"Just an oberservation." He holds his hands up in defense. "Gambit didn't mean nothin' by it."_

_He never knows what is heads or tails with her. _

_He never knows which girl he's going to get._

_"What's y' real name?"_

_The surprise on her face is evident, "Why are yah askin' now?"_

_"T'ink I've been askin' since de night we met."  
_

_He watches her roll her eyes, "Ah meant raght now. Is this really a conversation worth distractin' ourselves with durin' trainin'?"_

_"Fine, I'll guess." He said, following her as she started off again. "Britney." Her indignant snort indicated that he was wrong. "Carol."  
_

_"Are we really gonna play this game swamp rat?"_

_"We won't if y'll just give me y' name, t'ink I earned dat much, no? Y' other friends, don't dey know it?" He watched her spin around, expecting angry eyes per usual but was pleasantly surprised by the playful look that painted itself across her face instead._

_"We gonna play twenty questions, Gambit?"_

_The corner of his mouth pulled up in a smirk, "Oui."_

_"Fahne, me first. Why'd yah come here?"_

_He wondered when that question would come up. Such mysterious circumstances he'd arrived under, but really, these X-Men were quite inviting. Never pushing a conversation when it wasn't welcome. Never questioning his story._

_Nothing like back home._

_The X-Men, they give you their trust and make you earn their distrust._

_Him, he gives you nothing and makes you earn everything._

_The room fades, the simulation is over. He's pretty sure Logan's pointing out to everyone what they did wrong._

_Remy knows what he did wrong._

_"Because of y'."_

_Her mouth opens, closes._

_Well, now she knows._

* * *

_She doesn't know what to think of his admission. She doesn't know what to think of anything that has to do with him. Was he being literal? Why was he at the gala? Was he following her? Did she leave that much of an impression at the club?_

_She just doesn't know._

_"Gambit," the code name still falls off her tongue because she hasn't registered that the training is really over. Code names are for partners and simulations. He's always been Remy since she met him._

_She never even gave him her name._

_"Y' never even told me what happened, Rogue. What'd I do? I can't deal wit' dis hot an' cold any more. We friends? We enemies? We more den dat, chere? Is Remy just wastin' his time wit' you?"_

_The words sting a little more than they should. In all fairness, she doesn't feel at fault for his confusion at all. **He's **the one that pursued her when she wasn't single. **He's **the one that made it clear that they were friends. **He's **the one who kissed her out of no where._

_All she's ever done is run._

_It's all she's ever known how to do._

_"You two," Logan's voice breaks up the tension before she can offer Remy a reply, "what exactly was goin' on? You guys looked like little girls who haven't seen each other since before Christmas break." He grunted, referring to their constant chatter rather than training during the situation._

_"Was jus' tryin' t' talk strategy, monsieur claws." Remy drawled, bored with the chastising that he was sure was about to come._

_He doesn't know that's not a good move. Rogue knows. Rogue knows Logan well. _

_He's the only person she's ever run to instead of from._

_"Oh, ' s' dat all ' ?" Logan mimics the cajun, amused. "Looks like you two can use extra private sessions then, huh gumbo?" He smacks the taller mans arm, grinning like the cat that got the cream. "Tuesday's and Thursday evenings. Have fun 'talkin' strategy'." He snorted, exiting the room._

_ The doors swish shut, and she feels his ember eyes refocus on her. He's waiting, impatiently, and she doesn't have an answer for him._

_"Fine. See y' Tuesday, **Rogue.**"  
_

_She watched him walk out, no doubt on his way to go chain smoke on the roof._

* * *

**AN: Hey guys! This update took longer than expected which is what brings me to my main note of this chapter: I'm looking for a beta reader. I've never used one, I don't know the etiquette or such, but pretty much I'm just looking for some one to read my chapters before I publish them to fix spelling errors _only. _My writing style is often choppy and such on purpose, so I don't want anyone to fix that, but if I could get a fresh pair of eyes to fix and spelling errors I'll be able to get my chapters out much faster. Pretty much someone who would be able to read the chapter with 24 hours of getting it, and will give me an email to send it to.**

**Aside from that, the Romy tension is building and once we've boiled over on that point, I'll be getting more into the actual plot of the story. Let me know your thoughts, and please review!**

**EDIT: I've already finished the next chapter, so post those reviews for this one so I can post it already!**


	13. Night Out

_It's a date_.

It's a date, but is it a date?

Yes. Yes. No. Kitty, Jubilee, Tabby.

Living in a house full of girls who've done more than their fair share of dating, and Rogue still isn't sure whether or not to read into Warren's choice of words when she finally called him.

_To be honest, I didn't think you'd call, the way you ran off that day. _He had said, laughing into the mouth piece. She could hear the smile in his voice, could picture the small lines that form by his eyes when he smiles. It makes her smile.

_Sorry, ah didn't have mah head on straight. Completely forgot about it at tha' point, but ah __**did **__promise ah'd remember tah call, didn't ah?_ She blushes slightly in a moment of embarassment, recalling that she might have been a little _too _flirty in her tone.

And still

_it's a date._

What in Sam Hill does someone where to a maybe-date?

* * *

"I don't do this, usually."

Logan's grunt of indifference is enough to cause an eye roll out of Ororo, as the two watch their fellow X-Man look down at the intimidating drink before her. It's a night out for the resident 'super heroes', and even the more mature members aren't willing to sit out the fun this time.

"Yer either gonna drink it, or yer not Frost." Logan says to her, shrugging again.

_She ain't gonna do it._

Even if she weren't peaking into his thoughts, it's plainly written across his face that Logan doesn't think she'll follow through on what he and Ororo call 'the quicker looser upper'. The colorful liquid in a tall shot glass sits in front of her, egging her on.

"Oh Logan, stop it. If she doesn't want the drink, she doesn't have to drink it." Ororo hushes him, trying to flag down the bartender again. "We'll get you something else, Emma."

_Figures._

Her cool eyes shift back to her burly companion, picking up on both his spoken and unspoken challenge. "Logan, are you doubting me?"

She reads both the surprised amusement from Ororo's face, and the smug amusement on Logan's. Emma doesn't like to be challenged.

Emma likes to call the shots.

A queen of sorts. No one ever tells her what move to make. Not in her court.

"I'm just sayin', it ain't gonna drink itself, and lookin' at it ain't gonna drain it none either." He chuckles, taking a swig of his beer.

"Those sound like fighting words to me." Ororo says, letting out a silent whistle while trying to hide a smile.

Scooping up the small glass, Emma tips her head back allowing the liquid to burn on it's way down her throat. She closes her eyes from the sensation, licking her lips to lessen the bitter taste. When she opens them, Ororo's wearing her usual smile and Logan his trademark smirk. It takes a moment for that smirk to turn into a full on smile as she confiscates his beer to chase it down with.

"Bartender? Another round for me and my friends, please."

* * *

The movies are packed when Jubilee finally finds parking and makes her way inside the theater to find her friends. She spots Piotr first, the tall Russian sticking out like a sore thumb among the more average height movie goers. She makes her way over to join him, Kitty, and Bobby in the concession line.

"Rogue looking for parking too?" She asks, already eyeing the candy case with envy. What can she say? The girl has a major sugar tooth.

Kitty shakes her head no from where she stands with her arm linked with Bobby's (_sooo weird),_ "She couldn't come. Logan assigned her to extra danger room sessions because of the partner change."

The asian girl scrunches her nose in distaste, "Oooo, that bites. How come you didn't get extra time, Petey? You and Emma used to being unbreakable power houses?" He replied with a silent smile, which was satisfactory for Jubilee _(can't understand him half the time, anyways)._

The line progresses further along, and as usual she can't keep her mouth closed among her group of friends. It's been said that Jubilee's mouth runs at an accelerated rate to make up for all the calories she consumes in bubble gum daily. "So whose totally stoked for this movie? You aren't gonna cry this time, are you Kit? I mean, I know it's rated R and all, but I don't think Bobby needs you breaking his hand during just the scary trailers, right Pete? Bobby what's got you so up tight?"

Bobby shakes his head, trying to brush off whatever seems to be bothering him (_no such luck, Bobb-o), _his jaw still tight as he tries to smile at his friends. "It's nothing."

Kitty, who seems to know, gives her what Jubilee would describe as a _poor Bobbykins _look. "We were just noticing John is here when you came in. You just never like, know whats going on when it comes to that one."

"Well darn," She says, looking over her shoulder to spot him. "He always shows up at the weirdest times, right? Lets get the extra large popcorn so we can throw some at him."

* * *

Far too many empty shot glasses sat strewn across the bar, and to say that Emma was starting to feel the effects would be putting it lightly. She was practically tripping over herself as Ororo helped her back from the ladies room, to where they found Remy sitting with Logan.

"Shocking," Emma slurred, "positively shocking. And where might youuu have come from?" She pointed at Remy, tapping his nose with her index finger.

Exchanging a look with Ororo, Remy decided to ignore the blonde and instead takes a sip of his bourbon when it arrived. "Looks like y' all are havin' a good night out, non? T'ink I even saw Hank headin' out t' a lecture befo' I left."

"Gotta unwind every once in awhile, gumbo. Otherwise the job ain't fun." Logan said, not phased at all by the alcohol due to his healing factor.

_Well then why do yah drink it? _Rogue once asked, to which he replied that he simply likes the taste.

"I see dat," Remy said, sparing another amused glance at the far gone Emma.

"And what've you been doing tonight, Mister Lebeau?" Ororo asked conversationally, steadying Emma in her stool and moving the newest drink far, far out of her companion's reach.

"Took part in a card game earlier. Won de pot, wouldn't y' know." He bragged jokingly, lighting a cigarette and taking a long inhalation. "Lady luck was on m' side t'night."

Logan chuckled, finding this very amusing.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, yer night ain't really gonna go that well, gumbo."

"And why's dat?"

"Yer 20 minutes late to your first private training session."

His laughter only grew when Emma got dizzy watching how quickly Remy was up and out of that bar.

* * *

Checking her watch for what had to of been the twentieth time in the past fifteen minutes, Rogue gave a frustrated sigh before deciding to call it quits. It was already forty five minutes into their two hour training session, and it was now obvious that Remy wasn't coming. She tried not to let it bother her, but for whatever reason she couldn't shake off the feeling similar to that of being stood up.

Redoing her pony tail, she left the danger room and headed out to the hall. _Can't believe ah missed movie night for this. _She thought bitterly as she headed towards the elevator. _Maybe ah can meet up with 'em for dessert._

She waited patiently on the elevator, shaking her head again at the fact that he didn't even have the decency to show up after the cold goodbye he'd given her after their group training. Just as the elevator dinged, she heard the stairway door burst open and out came Gambit, clad in his uniform and only slightly winded from his apparent rush to get there.

_A little late for tha'._

"Sorry 'm late, I co-"

Rolling her eyes, she didn't even want to bother to hear anything he had to say as she stepped in the elevator. She jabbed the third floor button, before crossing her arms in annoyance. She wasn't surprised when he stopped the door with his hand, giving her an incredulous look.

"Really? Y' jus' gon' walk away like dat when 'm tryin' t' talk t' y'?" The disbelief in his voice only fueled her annoyance, spinning it into anger.

"Ah'm sorry, but ah do believe it was _you _who left me waitin' for the past hour or so. So yeah, ah'm not so keen on listenin' tah any of the crap yah're about tah spout. If yah don't mind, ah'd like tah try an' go meet up with mah friends who actually care whether or not they waste mah time." She said, grabbing his hand and removing it from the elevator door.

A frustrated growl erupted from her chest when he not only replaced his hand with his boot clad foot, but also took a step into the elevator.

"Fine. Y' wanna be pissed, be pissed. 'M late, can't fix it now. However, we do have an hour left of trainin', so y' might as well be mad at me in dere, where y' can at least do somethin' about it." He challenged her, his eyes blazing.

"Fahne."

"Fine. After y'."

* * *

About an hour or so into the movie Bobby volunteered to go get refills for everyone. He placed the tray on the concession counter, telling the teenage boy working what drinks they all had. It was when he checked his text messages (one from Rogue, and one from Sam) that he heard the theater door open, and a spare glance proved the new addition in the lobby to be Pyro.

_Of course. _Bobby turned back to the counter, not bothering to say anything out of hopes that Pyro wouldn't stir something up.

"What Bobby, too cool to say hi anymore?"

_No such luck, Bobb-o._

"What's the point, _John_? Not like we have much to talk about anymore." Bobby said, picking the tray of drinks up and turning back around to face his former best friend.

Pyro's head tilted back, letting out a deep laugh. "Yeah, guess you've got a point. Not really playing eagle scout any more, so I guess we really don't have much in common." He said, passing him to lean on the concession counter.

"Don't think we ever really did."

A hand on his shoulder stopped him as he was headed back.

"You think you're better than me, Bobby?"

"No John. I think I'm different than you." He shrugged his shoulder out from his clutch, turning to look at him straight on.

"You've got that right. You're a scared, pathetic version of what you could be. All that potential wasted on that dead man's dream."

The condensation on the outside of the cups froze over, frost giving off a smoky effect. "Don't talk about the professor that way, _Pyro_. You owe him more than that. I'm done with this, enjoy the rest of the movie." He said, turning back to the theater door.

"Oh yeah, saw you're with Kitty now. Guess you got tired of not gettin' any, huh? Kitty looks like the type to put out. Nice choi-" He was momentarily stunned when Bobby dropped the cups, spinning around and shooting frost clear up John's chest to his mouth.

The combination of the shock of passer by's and the way Bobby stormed off into the theater was enough to send Pyro into a fit of laughter, spitting ice particles onto the floor.

Maybe they weren't so different after all.

* * *

Thirty minutes into what was left of their training session was enough for Rogue to work out all of her frustration on Remy for being late. Now, any blows he took were just for good measure. It was evident to her that their age difference allowed Remy more experience that made him a better combatant than she was. It didn't deter her, however.

Upping the ante, Remy sent a whistling card at her. It singed the right side of her waist, opening a tear in the uniform and eliciting a hiss from her.

"Really? Yah're really gonna play tha' way?"

He shrugged at her, "S'posed t' be learnin' about each other's abilities, ain't we? Which reminds me, we never did finish dat game o' twenty questions."

"Oh. You wanna finish it? Fahne." She replied feistily, narrowly missing him with a left hook. "Guess it's yahr turn, in't it?"

He grabbed a hold of her arm, twisting it behind her and pulling her back flush against his chest. "Bien den, why y' so angry?"

A firm instep to his big toe earned her her freedom, pushing herself out of his hold. "Oh ah don't know, maybe ah'm just crazy an ain't fond of being stood up."

He raised a taunting eyebrow at her, a smirk playing at his mouth. "Wasn't aware dis was a date chere, else believe me, wouldn't of been late."

"Yah never miss a beat, do yah?"

"Non, now I believe it's m' turn again-"

"Wait a minute!" She stopped her barrage of attacks, panting as she wiped her brow. "That wasn't mah question."

"Ahh, but y' _did _ask it, so-"

"Don't yah play dirty swamp rat! Yah knew that wasn't mah question!"

He chuckled, readying himself in a defensive pose again. "Fine, carry on." He quickly caught her ankle when she tried to sweep his legs, and instead yanked on it and pulling her into a hold on the ground. "Y'r question, petite." He said, trapping her arms with his knees.

"Why haven't yah given up yet?" She takes the brief surprise as an advantage, swinging her legs up to push him off her arms, and pushing him over to get him in an arm lock.

He doesn't answer before using his body weight to fling her over him to the front, his arms freeing themselves from her hold. He scrambled to pin her down, pressing her arms over her head and trapping her legs in between his.

"Maybe cause it ain't even an option, Rogue. Ever since de first night I met y', y' been burned in de back of m' mind. Couldn't get de sound of your voice, smell of your hair, de look of dat white stripe, not'in outta m' mind. T'ought about you for _days_ and y' never came back t' dat club. I know, cause I was dere."

She opens her mouth to say something, but he continues.

"I don't like it. Even bein' close t' y' just like dis," he nods his head down to her pinned position, "sets everyt'ing in m' on fire. I haven't given up b'cause no matter what I do, I can't get de taste of y' lips out m' mind. An' I don't want t'." He answered honestly, his hair brushing the sides of her face.

"I don't think y' want me t' either, do y'?" His eyes seemed dim, pulsating at a low rate as he looked at her. "Jus' say it, if y' do."

Rogue closed her eyes, trying to bring herself to say the words.

"Ah don't want yah tah give up, either."

It's the most honest she's ever been with him. She doesn't know what they are, or what she wants them to be. All she does know is she doesn't want him to stop trying, even if it's unfair to lead him on.

* * *

"Ok, so exactly _why _is it John's fault that the soda I paid five bucks for ended up splattered all over the movie theater lobby?" Jubilee asked when the group was on their way back to the mansion.

Bobby reiterated the whole scenario that took place in the lobby for them, glossing over the details of what he said that finally caused him to snap. Looking back on it, he regretted letting John get any kind of reaction out of him because he knew that's exactly what the other boy wanted.

"Does anyone even know like, what he's doing these days? With Magneto out of the picture and all, I mean like, where does he even live? Why is he even still in New York? He doesn't have family here, right Bobby?" Kitty asked, leaning forward to poke her head between the driver's and passenger's seat where Bobby and Piotr were.

"Yeah, none that I know of. I was wondering the same thing." Bobby said, a pondering look crossing his face. "I mean, from what we observed at the gala it's obvious that Sabretooth is back, but who is _he _working for now? I don't think Logan or Storm ever found out what they wanted to accomplish, anyways."

"The television had said it was that they wanted to make a, how do you say, 'spectacle' over what it was that Warren was doing. It drew attention to the Morlock Manor." Piotr added, looking at Kitty.

"Yeah, but that almost seems like a story to cover what they were really there for. If they wanted to make a scene over the Morlock Manner, they could of done it at the opening, you know?" Bobby replied.

Jubilee popped her gum, sticking her head up next to Kitty's. "Well, maybe that's why Warren was over the other day. Maybe he was talkin' to Badger about it."

* * *

"Ah don't want yah tah give up, either."

He searched her face when she said it, watching the way she bit her lip just before she had replied. He sometimes wondered if she knew that that secretly drove him mad with want and if that's why she did it so often. Removing his weight from where he had his hands pinning her arms above her, he braced one hand on the ground to lean his weight on, the other one trailing down the outside of her arm to rest on the side of her rib cage. He felt her shiver from the sensation and yet he didn't move to get up.

"What is it y' _do _want, chere?"

The look on her face suggested she was about to pull away again, emotionally. It was a constant battle to get these small moments with her where she opened a window, letting him know that she might want him even a fraction as much as he wanted her before she slammed the window shut.

_Come t' me,_ _petite_

he'd thought the night of the gala. Even now, it felt like he was trying to urge her from running away like she tried to when she thought it wasn't him.

Now it felt like she was trying to run away because it _is _him.

Before she could take the opportunity to come to her senses and shut the window, his hand trailed from her rib cage to her hip, rubbing small circles there. She involuntarily pressed her body closer to his, the friction from their intimate position eliciting an even more involuntary moan from her that shifted his lust into overdrive.

His hand tightened on her hip and he purposefully ground his hips into hers, positively delighted when this time she breathed out his name.

"Remy..."

He watched her close her eyes, arching her back off the metal floor as she bit her lip to stop from moaning again. The sight was absolutely erotic to him, and the reaction he was getting urged him to continue his ministrations. The hand on her hip moved to her thigh, and he was surprised when he didn't have to coax her to wrap it around him.

"Tell me what y' want, Rogue." He tried to keep his voice calm, but inside he was all but begging for her to tell him that she wanted him. If she asked him to stop, he thinks he might blow something up. Far too many times she's had him ensnared in a situation much like this one, only to be spooked and run off. This whole time he kept his face close to hers, observing her reactions, and now he moved his face down to her neck to press a kiss there.

_Come t' me, petite._

"Remy, ah want yah-"

She gasped out of shock and delight when his hips involuntarily surged forward, his body reacting to hearing her say the words he so desperately had wanted. He's pretty sure he heard her let out on _oh gawd _but he was too taken with placing open mouthed kisses further down her neck, her flesh burning his with it's heat.

What she said next made his blood run

cold.

"but ah want tah give Warren a chance, too."

* * *

**AN: Please review guys. Let me know what you're thinking so far!**


	14. Wrong

It's so bright the light is debilitating. The smoke is thick and the air is thin. The led colored paint flakes off, shriveling from the heat assaulting the walls it covers. Each breath is labored, his chest raising and falling slowly as he looks at his handy work. It's getting hot in there but he doesn't put the flames out. He doesn't move.

He _likes _it.

He likes the destruction. He likes the burnt smell that clings to the inside of his nostrils. He likes the feeling of pride that spreads in his lower gut when he acknowledges that _he _caused this.

Pyro likes fire.

"Put it out."

Mel doesn't bother with questions. She doesn't ask what possessed him to take a lighter to their newly modeled garage. Instead she gives an order and crosses her arms, waiting for him to follow them.

"Why?"

He flicks the lighter closed, turning to look at her. She's tall, he'll give her that, but he's got at least forty pounds on her and a temper that seems particularly fond of his zippo tonight.

Crack.

A laugh rises in his chest, stumbling off his tongue as he wipes the metallic liquid from his lip. The flames licking the walls dance higher, a sound similar to someone waving a large blanket open emitting from them.

She doesn't budge. Her stare is cold, impatient.

His laughter dies out with his flames.

"What the fuck do you think you were doing tonight, Pyro?"

He isn't about to be lectured, stepping around her towards the door. "Ain't any of your business, Mel. You ain't running things."

He's not wrong.

But that's the wrong answer.

She's so quick that he only flicked the lighter open and shut once before she's in front of him, her amber eyes blazing with an anger so thick it almost captivates him.

Pyro likes fire.

"You listen to me, _little boy_, when I took you in"

"_You _didn't take anybody in! You think you're in charge? You're fucking crazy. The only reason anybody listens to you is because _he _tells them to. You think you're on the in? You're convenient. Pathetic." He spits, getting in her face to show her he's in no mood for her shit tonight.

"And what do you think your little vendetta with the X-Men is?"

It comes out sickly sweet, the smile she delivers it with reminding him of a hungry dog.

"You think that little stunt you pulled at the movies wasn't pathetic, _John? _You think he'd be _proud _of that? Wrong." She swings the door open, glaring at him over her shoulder. "It's time to grow up. You aren't in high school, so get over it. It's 'pathetic'. Clean this shit up."

When she leaves, he thinks he'll break something.

He thinks he'll scream, rip his hair out, destroy anything he can get his hands on.

Click.

_"Clean this shit up." _

Mel's only good at giving orders. She doesn't get her hands dirty any more. She's been burned too many times while getting her hands dirty, he can't say he blames her.

_"That's it." He says, getting up. The waiting is killing him, he can't just sit around fidgeting any more._

_"Whoa, what are you doing?" Bobby asks him, the look of bewilderment across his face. When the fuck did Bobby become so lame? His eyes fall to the companion next to him, her stupid white stripe slipping out from behind her ear. His eyes return to his guy friend._

_"I'm tired of this kid's table shit, I'm going in there."_

_This is what they've been training for, isn't it? If they're training to become the next generation of X-Men then why is it that they can't be trusted to join in on the action? Pyro doesn't do sitting on the side lines._

_"John, they told us tah stay here."_

_His stomach turns. The name doesn't sound right falling out of her mouth when she's regarding him. John's so ordinary, so normal._

_He's anything but ordinary._

_The name is wrong._

_"Do you always do what you're told?"_

He never looked back. There was no point. Things weren't worse outside of the institute's walls, and it took him barely any time at all to realize what it was that Xavier was really doing to them.

Sheltering them.

That wasn't going to do any one any good. There was a war coming, and even worse than being on the wrong side

was sitting on the _side lines. _

He wasn't going to be like Bobby. Pyro wasn't going to be placated by being allowed to be a mascot for the X-Men.

He was better than Bobby.

He was better.

They'd have to know that he _was _better off without them.

* * *

It was early evening by time anyone saw Emma on Wednesday.

The porcelain bowl was the only throne that queen had seen all morning. Her stomach lurched, emptying the contents of the night before before she flushed it down. When she finally appeared outside of her room it was only to replenish the hydration she'd been losing all day long.

"Well damn Em', you don't look all too good." Sam said, his eyebrows lifting at the sight of the usually so put together blonde.

She only half attempted her coldest glare, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "What a _charmer_ you are, Sam." The sarcasm dripped off her words as she opened the bottle.

"Sorry, din't mean nothin' by it."

"Glad to see you ain't dead of alcohol poisonin', Frost." Logan's gruff voice made it's way to her from where he was sitting at the kitchen island, looking over the numerous take out menus that the kids had acquired.

"No thanks to you."

He raised an amused eyebrow, his trademark smirk plastered on his face. "Nobody forced you to drink that much."

"Yeah, well you didn't do much to stop me either." She said miserably, grabbing one of the menus and looking it over.

An amused chuckle left him, and she tried not to smile at his amusement. She watched him as he stood up, sliding a menu towards her.

"I was goin' to grab a bite, you wanna come?"

Kayla.

Logan.

Kayla's Logan.

It didn't matter that it was a friendly invitation. It didn't matter that Logan didn't remember.

It felt wrong.

"No."

With that, she headed back to her room.

* * *

It took every ounce of control he had and a very cold shower, but Remy successfully left the danger room without killing Rogue the night before. He'd laid all his cards out for her, and she'd been playing with a loaded deck all along.

_"Remy, ah want yah-"_

_Her words thrilled him, pressing closer to her. He needed to be as close as possible, touch her in every available area. He'd been waiting for so long for her to admit she'd wanted him, to quit with her tip toeing. He kissed her neck fervently, trying to quench his taste for her._

_"but ah want tah give Warren a chance, too."_

_In an impressive display of power his hands were off her in a second, slamming the metal tiles on either side of her shoulders that sent kinetic streams through the cracks between them, until they reached the wall where the last tiles burst out of their places and clattered on the floor._

_"Remy!" She said, looking at him bewildered as she tried to sit up and stop him from retreating so angrily. "Ah-"_

_"Non! Y' don' get t' do that, Rogue!" He snapped, his temper boiling over. "Y' don' get t' sit here an' get me riled up as part of y' sick little mind game befo' tellin' me y' wan' me - but y' wan' Warren more." He yanked her wrist, removing her hand from his chest as he got to his feet._

_"Ah didn't say ah want him **more **ah jus' said ah wanted tah give him a chance, Remy, ah think it's only fair-"__  
_

_"**Fair**?" He laughed bitterly, looking at her over his shoulder as he paced. "Y' wanna talk about **fair **Rogue? Y' think it's fair tha' y' strung me along while y' were datin' Bobby, den when y' were available shoved me int' de friend zone, and **now**, and dis is mon favorite part, **now **y' gon' tell me dat y' don't wan' be wit' me cause y' wan' try another homme out? Did I miss anyt'ing? Does dat sound fair t' y', chere?"_

The memory only serves to get his blood boiling again, and he lights a cigarette to pacify his nerves.

He was done.

He was so done with Rogue. He was throwing in the towel with this one.

If she didn't want him, fine. He wouldn't want her either.

Two could play that game.

* * *

"So will you ask him, then?"

Kitty's voice brings Rogue back to their conversation, stopping her mind from wandering back to the night before. She'd never seen Remy so angry, not even the time he'd almost blew Emma to pieces.

It scared her.

It hurt.

He was so angry at her, and she knew he had a right to be.

"Sorry Kit.. what?"

"On your date, will you ask Warren if he was here the other day to talk about what happened at the gala? It's just really bothering some of us that he keeps popping out of like, nowhere, you know?" The brunette was laid out on her bed, having told Rogue the whole story about the movie theater.

Rogue bit her lip, the thought of her date with Warren and her fight with Remy pulling her in two opposite directions. "Yeah, ah can ask. Ah mean, ah'm sure he'd tell me if it was."

"Yeah I know, I just figured since you'd see him soon." Kitty said, waving the topic off. "How'd your training session go? Sucks you couldn't come last night. Did you hear Emma got sloshed?" She laughed the last part off.

"Heard she tried to out drink Logan." Rogue replied with a half hearted smile, skirting around the training topic completely.

She hugged her knees to her chest, trying to push away the feeling of guilt that tried to gnaw at her gut.

She couldn't control herself around Remy, it seemed. One moment she wanted to give in to him, the next she wanted to push him as far out of her mind and life as she could.

She didn't trust herself around him.

How many times had she proved to him and herself that when it comes to Remy, her judgement was clouded? How many times had she all but thrown herself at him in the most inappropriate of circumstances, only to come back to reality and hate herself for it?

Why'd she keep going back?

It was wrong.

_They_ were wrong.

"Where are you going?" Kitty asked when she abruptly pushed herself off her bed, pulling an Xavier's institute sweatshirt on over his tank top and sleep shorts.

"Tah make it right." Was the only answer she gave before closing the door.

* * *

It was several drinks into his night when the bartender finally suggested that Remy head home. In no condition to drive, he relented and made his way through his phone contacts with blurry vision, thinking of who to call.

Bobby? No, he'd been studying all day for a major test he had coming up. Maybe Logan, although then he'd have to hear his shit for the rest of the week, same for Ororo. He barely even toyed with the notion of calling Rogue before his anger swirled just at the thought of seeing her. Out of options, he fell upon his last resort.

To her credit, she let it ring at least four times before answering with a tone that was trying a little too hard to sound as if he was bothering her.

"What?"

"'Mara," He grinned, leaning his shoulder against the wall because frankly, walking and talking was a little too much right now. "Remy needs a favor, petite." His voice took on it's suavest note, although his happy slurs couldn't be disguised.

He heard her stifle a giggle.

"Yeah, well, all things considered, I don't really think we're on the kind of terms where I want to do you any favors, Remy." She tried to sound confident, but he knew she was just trying to play hard to get.

Which was so not her case.

"Chere," he purred into the phone. "Y' really wan' me t' drive home? Well, ifn' y'll f'give me when I get dere, I suppose it be worth de drive-" he trailed off, knowing how to play this conversation.

"No!" She let out a little to quickly, her voice a little too excited. "No, don't do something that wreckless." She tried to sound less enthusiastic. "I guess I can do you this favor, because I don't want your death on my conscience, is all."

It took her fifteen minutes to get there, and he'd sobered up only slightly while he waited. He'd drank two glasses of water, looking at his watch. It wasn't even 1 am yet and he'd already gotten a little sloppy. "Y' came." He grinned, laying on the charm.

"Oh stop, as if I'm going to let you die just because I'm mad at you." She said, leading him back to her car.

"And here I t'ought y' hated me." He teased.

"I do." She replied, sticking her tongue at him as she opened the passenger side door. "Get in, drunky."

He took a step towards her, smelling the bourbon from his breath as it hit her face. "Y' don't really mean dat, do y' 'mar?"

It was as easy as that.

* * *

Rogue replayed her apology over and over in her head on the walk to the other wing.

She'd tell him everything. How she was sorry, that she didn't mean to make things complicated and that she was willing to try with him. Only him. No more games. She'd call off her date with Warren, and they'd be able to give them a real chance, with no more obstacles.

Her stomach clenched at the thought that maybe he didn't want to give _her _a chance now. It instantly made a hollow feeling in her chest.

She turned the corner, eager to make it to his room in hopes that he'd still be awake when she stopped dead in her tracks.

There in front of his bedroom door stood Remy with Amara pressed up against the door as his fingers worked fervently underneath her skirt, eliciting delighted sounds from the blonde. It took only a second for her to take in his trench coat dropped at his feet where Amara obviously had pushed it from his shoulders, and the way Remy coaxed Amara's tongue with his own.

The small gasp of embarrassment she let out was enough to catch Amara's attention, who quickly shoved Remy away and straightened her skirt out whilst trying to hide her own embarrassment.

When Remy's eyes finally looked to see what had cause Amara's reaction she watched the shock register on his face for a moment before she took off running.

Her fault.

_Her _fault.

This was only her fault.

She slammed her door which caused Kitty to jump, startled.

It took only a minute for the regret to sink in and the tears to start running.

* * *

"Remy-"

Amara gasped, delighted when his fingers found the sensitive juncture in between her legs.

"Oh god."

He forcefully silenced her, covering her mouth with his and battling her tongue. He needed her to stop making those noises, to stop saying those things.

Those were the same gasps and moans Rogue had made.

He felt himself become even more turned on, and the anger inside him fueled his pace underneath her skirt. Even when she wasn't around, Rogue had a way of ruining even the best moments for him. He'd get her out of his head some way, even if he had to fuck her out of it.

Amara shoved at his chest gently, lowering her leg and straightening her skirt. Honestly, if it was one of the guys fucking cock blocking him he was going to charge their door and-

his heart sank.

Staring at him with a shocked expression was none other than Rogue, and he wanted to be angry, he did. She literally _was _ruining this moment, but the look on her face made him feel guilty, and even that made him mad.

He wanted her to know she wasn't the end all, be all for him. He wanted her to see that he'd be perfectly fine moving on.

He wasn't.

This didn't feel right.

Nothing about this moment made him feel better.

It felt wrong.

He was about to go over to her, to explain, to apologize, to do anything that would make this situation better.

But she ran.

She ran

she ran

she ran away.

He hated her for it. He hated her for always popping up at the worst times. He hated her for leading him on. He hated her for being indecisive. He hated her for not being in Amara's position right now.

He hated it more that he felt _her _guilt, and _her _regret when she saw them together.

Fucking empathy.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for those who reviewed! Hopefully you got to see different sides to both of the characters in this chapter than you did the last chapter. **

**It never seems to be easy for these too, but at the same time, that's why the fic is called Handling the Pain ;]**

**No lie guys, the more people that review the more motivated I am to get chapters written and put out there for you. Please lease a review on this chapter, and last chapter if you didn't get to!**


	15. Guilty

**Current Day, approximately 10 p.m.**

"Where is he?!"

"What on earth? Who're you looking for Roguey?" Quentin asks after narrowly missing a head on collision with the angered southerner.

"Gambit!" She snaps, not wasting any time with apologies.

Rogue's stomach tightens and her shouts rip from her chest. The sense of anger and betrayal sits heavy in her gut as she avoids the elevator, instead descending the stairs to the lower level at a rapid pace. "Where are you, swamp rat?!"

Her first instinct is to head to the danger room, and she follows it until the gym door opens when she's nearly there. The look of concern on his features catches her attention first before she even registers that he's speaking.

"Rogue? What's wrong? What h-"

Her fist makes contact with his jaw as he drops something. She hears it smack into the door frame but pays it no attention. The look of bewilderment he gives her does nothing but fuel her temper as she juts her finger directly into his chest.

"Yah're a _liar._" She seethes trying her best to keep the hot, angry tears at bay. "Ah trusted yah and yah lied tah me!"_  
_

Recognition alters his features, and she lets out a deep sob she didn't even know she was holding. She smacks his hand away when he reaches for her with a _don't touch me, don't yah dare._

* * *

**Earlier, Current Day.****  
**

"Not that I'm complainin', but you wanna tell me why you wanted to tag along?"

Logan watches as his question draws Rogue's attention away from her menu, and he smirks when the smallest inkling of shock in her expression turns into a coy a grin.

"What, cain't a girl eat?"

The waitress drops of his coffee (_yah're gonna drink it black? darlin', if I wanted a milk shake I'd order one) _and her water. Taking a big gulp of the bitter liquid, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before answering.

"Trust me Rogue, I've known you long enough to know you've got an appetite that puts most of the boys to shame."

He chuckles as she throws a sugar packet at him.

"No, but really kid. You've got somethin' to say, I can tell." He watches her as she leans forward on her forearms, her eyebrows pulling together to form a look of pleading before she speaks.

"Ah need a new partner."

He can't say he's surprised. Not because Remy drove Emma so crazy that she too demanded a new partner, but because Logan notices things that others typically don't. To what extent Rogue and Remy's relationship goes to he doesn't know (_or care_), but he knows it goes beyond just that of simple house and team mates.

"What's wrong with yer old one?"

Exasperated, she sits back into the booth and blows the white streaks out of her face. "We ain't a good fit. It makes it hard tah pay attention durin' missions when we're arguin' half the time. Not tah mention, he shows up late tah our private sessions if he even shows up at all."

Logan gets it.

He knows what she's talking about. There had been several danger room sessions where he'd let things get past him because he and Scott had been having a pissing contest. Old one eye drove him crazy, and their banter was often a distraction to the rest of the team.

"No."

"Why not?" The annoyance in her voice makes him chuckle. She's always been stubborn since the day she talked her way into getting a ride after hiding in his trailer for god knows how long.

"Because you and gumbo make a good team. Yer skills are complimentary out on the field." He steals one of her bacon strips when the food arrives. "And because you gotta learn to not let anything get to you when it comes down to a real life situation, so if he's really all the distractin', then the better practice for you."

"Ah hate that smirk yah're wearing right now."

He simply chuckles and cuts into his breakfast.

* * *

Despite the darkness that fills the room, Remy maneuvers effortlessly around the living room furniture until he clicks on the light. The layout of his apartment still embedded in his memory, despite that it has sat vacant since he's been staying at the Xavier Institute. When he recovered from a killer hang over this morning he decided that a house check was far over due, if not an excuse to get the events from last night off his mind.

He doesn't waste time before heading to the kitchen and pulling out a small glass and a bottle of bourbon. As he drinks he checks the plethora of mail that had been building up at the lobby desk. Rifling through bills, invitations and personal letters a rather out of place envelope draws his attention.

Turning the grey envelope over he finds that it isn't addressed with a delivery or return address, indicating that this particular parcel had been dropped off in person. The only think separating it from a normal envelope is the capital 'D' embossed on the seal. Curious, he opens it and a single note card flutters onto the granite counter top.

His grasp on the glass tightens.

Every muscle in his stomach tightens.

Whistling permeates the room and when the glass shatters, he unleashes a wave of curses in both French and English while he runs his hand under the kitchen faucet. He picks out the two pieces of glass that had embedded themselves in his palm, and he grabs a towel to stop the blood from swirling down the drain.

_A deal's a deal._

* * *

To his credit Remy not only shows up for their training session, but he shows up on time.

She doesn't bring up the situation she'd caught him in, or what she was doing there. As a matter of fact, she doesn't bring up anything as they enter the danger room and instead informs him _ah can only stay an hour._

Somewhere inside he quells his disappointment, as he is sure that this is the only time she'll spend with him after last night.

"Y' got a hot date?" He jokes, removing his trench coat.

"Ah do, actually."

It turns his stomach, and he can't help but feel she's trying to get back at him for last night. No doubt, she's going somewhere with Warren.

"What happened tah yah hand?"

He follows her gaze to his hand wrapped in gauze from his earlier incident. The cuts are tender, but they'll heal in no time thanks to a little help from mutation. Shrugging it off nonchalantly he answers, "Broke a glass earlier. S'nothin'."

She nods, stretching her arms above her head. "Partied too hard, huh?"

He doesn't like the nonchalance.

There's an elephant in the room, and apparently he's going to have to be the one to address it.

"Listen Rogue, about last night-"

"Don't."

She cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

He sighs in frustration, running a hand through his messy chestnut locks. "We need t' talk, chere."

"There's nothin' tah talk about Remy. Yah and Amara hooked up, ah walked up on yah. Ain't exactly nothin' new."

He knows she's putting on an act of not caring. He's knows because he felt her emotions the night before. The only thing he doesn't know is what brings him to his next question.

"Why were y' comin' t' my room?"

"It doesn't even matter. Ah've gotta leave early, so if yah don't mind, ah'd like tah get this ball moving." She says, taking a defensive pose.

Not willing to push her buttons any further, they start sparring. They don't talk until she says she has to get going, and he just nods silently as he picks up his water bottle and tipping his head back, pours some over his face and hair. He opens his eyes and pushes the wet locks back off his face when he notices her staring.

"Jus' for de record, it matters t' me."

She leaves without a word.

* * *

She's not used to so many eyes being on her. When Warren holds the door for her at the restaurant he's chosen it's as if every pair of eyes in the place is on them, or rather on _him_. If she would have known that they'd draw so much attention she probably wouldn't of worn the beige dress with strappy black heels she'd chosen. Honestly, she _should _have expected them to draw this much attention.

After all, Warren is a good looking, wealthy socialite involved in high profile charity work all around New York city. All of this alone is enough to garner him so much attention and it only escalates when you add in the fact that

he has huge, white feathered wings.

_Such a beautiful mutation._

By the time they receive their entrees nearly every table in the place has pointed, glanced, or walked in their direction to get a look at the infamous winged mutant. When he notices her tense demeanor he smiles apologetically.

"I'm sorry about all of the attention, I probably should have picked somewhere that would of been less crowded."

She grins sheepishly, guilty over his apologetic nature. "Looks like the public still ain't used tah seein' yah wings out in the open."

"What are you talking about?" His eyebrows knit together in a way that portrays his confusion, and this only causes her own.

"Ah mean, that's why they're all starin'. They just ain't used tah seein' mutants out so publicly, especially one that resembles an Angel."

It doesn't matter that what he says next is for her benefit.

Her stomach fills with butterflies.

"Rogue... all of these people are staring because of how good _you_ look."

* * *

"You may enter."

The words indicate that Mel may push open the heavy doors that her hand rested upon, entering the room. The minimal touches of furniture and belongings sends a chill down her spine, reminding her of a hospital.

Mel isn't fond of hospitals.

Hospitals have never been very good to their kind.

"My dear," His voice is welcoming despite the smile not quite reaching his eyes. His appearance only slightly jars her as she takes in the sight of a man she once found to be so strong, so brave, so handsome. Now,

_now he's only weak._

Nimbly, she sits on the corner of his bed out of his reach. She prefers not to come to his room that reminds her so much of a hospital. She prefers to not have to look at him this way, to face the harsh reality that

_he's dying._

"Pyro tells me that things aren't moving as quickly as we had first anticipated."

She grits her teeth.

That little fuck.

"Pyro doesn't know what he's talking about." She snaps, perhaps a little too sharp. She's normally cool and collected.

Poise.

"No?"

The question hits her as an insult, as if she hasn't earned his absolute trust. As if she hasn't devoted _everything _to this man. As if she hasn't _given up _everything for this man. She gets up, tearing herself from his presence on her way back to the heavy doors.

"It's going to be done within the week, even if I have to do it myself."

* * *

**Current day, approximately 10 p.m.**

The punching bag receives another blow before he decides to call it quits. While he grabs his abandoned water bottle, pushing sweaty locks out of his face, he notices the luminescent glow coming from his cell phone beside it.

_De hell? Quatre missed calls?_

He checks the call log, and his stomach tightens.

Rogue.

What on earth would possess her to call him so many times within the past hour? Wasn't she on a date?

He's already dialing back, worry starting to seep into his conscience. Surely they wouldn't have...

His thoughts are cut short when he hears some kind of shouting in the hallway. The phone still pressed to his ear, he enters the hall to see what the commotion is and his concern only grows when he sees that it's Rogue doing all the shouting, and she's visibly upset.

"Rogue? What's wrong? What h-"

She lands a good crack on his jaw, knocking the phone right out of his hand where it smashes into the wall and breaks. If he weren't so worried that Mel had gotten to her, he'd be angry right now. Still, the bewilderment writes itself on his face as he waits for an explanation.

"Yah're a _liar_!" He watches her as she jabs his chest with her index. He thinks she might start crying, and he knows that whatever happened is bad.

Really bad.

"Ah trusted yah and yah lied tah me!"

It's at this point that he realizes that Mel most definitely got to her, telling her all his little secrets. He thinks there is nothing he can say to make any of this better, and at this point there's no way easy to finish things.

And then she opens her mouth again.

* * *

**Current Day, Approximately 9:15 p.m.**

"I'll grab your coat."

Rogue smiles as she watches Warren retreat back to the man attending the coat check. She'd be lying if she said he hadn't treated her to an amazing night. It had to be one of the most perfect dates she'd ever been on. He made her laugh, he chose an excellent location, the conversation was flawless.

She was absolutely bored out of her mind.

Guilt ate at her stomach when she realized that somewhere in the back of her mind

she couldn't help but think that it would have been so much more enjoyable if she were with Remy.

It's a realization that she doesn't like. Things were messy with the two of them right now, and she wasn't willing to touch that situation with a ten foot pole at this point. If they were lucky, really lucky, they'd still be able to salvage their friendship but any sort of romantic relationship was out the window in her mind.

"Hey," Warren's return draws her out of her thoughts. "I'm sorry to do this, but there seems to be an emergency with one of my endeavors that I really need to attend to. Marcus is going to take you back to the mansion again though."

"Yah ain't just tryin' tah ditch yah date, are you?" She teases, giving him an accepting grin.

"After this date? Absolutely not." His smile warms her cheeks, but the guilty feeling returns

because he's not Remy.

When he closes the door, he bends down to the window to apologize one more time and say his goodbyes. She finally remembers that Kitty wanted her to ask him a question.

"Hey, by the way" She says, leaning out the window to look up at him. "What made yah stop by the mansion the other day, anyways?"

"Oh, I'd finally figured out what Pyro had been after that night. Turns out he'd lifted a precious gem from my dads collection. Who would of thought he was a collector, huh? Night Rogue."

* * *

**AN: I always hate when I have to do a filler chapter. They're necessary to start certain plot points, but they always flow so awkwardly for me. Anyways, I hope you guys at least enjoyed the introduction to a turning point in our story. I also wanted to address something in a few of the reviews you all left. **

**I've gotten a few requests to make Rogue sassier like she is in the comics, and I just needed to say that Rogue's sass is definitely a large part of what makes her character so enjoyable, but the Rogue portrayed in this story is _movie verse_ and not comic verse. To me, in the movies Rogue's character is flawed in that she is insecure, and at times willing to take the easy route than to fight things through. This fic starts at a very vulnerable part for Rogue's character, and she hasn't developed into the woman she is in the comics yet. There are HUGE, I mean HUGEEEE factors that are going to affect Rogue in this story, but at this point I'm still writing her as she was at the end of X3.**

**Please review, love you guys :)**


	16. Trust Me

And then she opens her mouth again.

"Yah lifted that Gem of Cyttorak from Warren's place, and yah used me as a cover story tah get away with it."

Relief washes through his veins, cooling the nervous sweat that had begun to collect at his brow. The Gem. She was angry because she thought he had the gem.

His secrets were safe.

"I don't have it, Rogue."

Her auburn hair dances with the ivory stripes when she throws her head back, letting out a snarky laugh. "Of course yah don't! Yah sold it! 'Ah'm an art enthusiast'." She lets the last part out, mocking his words from that night. "Ah'm so stupid. Ah didn't even know you! Ah _don't_ even know you!"

When she whips around to face him at that last part, she lets out a shocked breath at the close proximity. He takes the moment to grab one of her hands in his, cradling it against the center of his chest.

"Y' know me better den anyone here, chere."

"That ain't sayin' much."

Her words are harsh, but her decibel has dropped considerably.

"Rogue, I meant dat I don't have de gem an' dat I didn't take it dat night."

Lie.

He's lying.

But it's only a technicality.

He watches her turn her face away from him, but she doesn't snatch her hand away so he takes that as a good sign. He lays it on thick because

_there's no easy way to finish this._

It isn't the first time he's used a woman's affections for a job.

"'m gonna be honest wit' y', Rogue. I was dere t' work dat night." When she tries to pull away he just holds onto her hand tighter, unwilling to let her leave. "But den I saw y', an' I got distracted. I got sloppy. I was dere t' swipe a necklace from one of de generous donors, not from y' ami."

Lie.

He's lying.

It's not even a technicality.

"Dat's why I showed up here de way I did, chere. Employers don't like when y' miss y' chance. Don't sit too well in my kind o' work."

Cover it up.

Lie.

She looks hesitant.

"Ah need... ah have tah tell Logan what happened that night." She said, pulling out of his grasp to leave.

Lie.

Lie.

_Lie._

Cover it up.

"Don' do dat, chere. You're makin' a big mistake." He says, watching her retreat.

She spins around again, placing her hands defiantly on her hips. "Newsflash sugah, how're yah gonna stop me?"

Licking his lip before going in for the kill, he stalks over to her, capturing her hand again. He locks eyes with her and levels his voice in a way that if the room had been occupied she'd know

he'd only see her.

"Wit' two words, chere. Trust me." (1)

The look on her face tells him what he already needs to know.

She believes him.

_He doesn't deserve it._

Before she can answer, the gym door opens and Logan raises an eyebrow at the two of them before they part from each other. Remy silently thanks the deck for the lucky hand that Logan's played him.

"Suit up, somebody set fire to the Morlock Manor. Won't take you three guesses to figure out who it is."

* * *

It was evident upon arrival that the fire department was not enthused about putting out the flames that were enveloping the only local housing system specifically for mutants in need. By the time that the X-Men members who'd been home arrived the building was definitely beyond repair that wouldn't include starting over from scratch.

"Are you kidding me?" Bobby shouted, angered by the flippant attitude towards putting out the fire. Covering as much area as he could, he only had to aid in the larger fires once Ororo unleashed a downpour.

"Why haven't you begun to attend to those injured?" Emma seethed, jabbing a manicured finger into the chest of an EMT.

"Because lady, it's a liability. We don't know what touching your kind will do."

Seeing red, Logan grabbed the man by his collar and slammed him roughly into the truck. "No, but if you _don't _get to work then you'll see what our kind will do." He backed up his threat by unsheathing the claws in his free hand before letting him go.

"Thanks so much for coming."

Warren's voice catches Rogue's attention, and it's while he's thanking Ororo that she realizes that this was the emergency he must of been referring to. A sick feeling rises in her stomach when it sinks in that the fire had been raging for _this _long and the fire department had hardly lifted a finger to help them for the simple fact that they were mutants.

"You said that Pyro was behind it," Logan interupted Ororo. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, I don't think even your finest arsonist could handle that feat." Warren replied, nodding his head to the left.

There on the walkway to the house, scorched in loopy print was written

_a deal is a deal._

Remy has to occupy himself to stop from blowing something up.

This was his fault.

Mel was trying to get a rise out of him. To light a fire under him, no pun intended.

He trails off, unable to handle the emotions that are fighting for dominance. Rounding around the side of what's left of the housing unit, he spots what looks like debris directly below what was once a window. In all directions, wood splinters jut...

Those

_those aren't wood splinters._

"Merde! Help! Get help over here!" He shouts, running over to the unconscious form of the mutant girl. He's overwhelmed, seeing the bone that sticks out from her body, a part of her mutation no doubt. "Petite, come on petite, wake up." He taps at her cheeks, trying to get her to come to.

Don't be dead.

_All his fault._

He covers her nose, breathing air into her lungs. One, two, three, pump.

_All his fault._

"Le fils d'une chienne!" He swears bitterly before blowing another long breath into her. He can hear the footsteps approaching him far too slow.

One, two, three, pump.

A gasp erupts from her chest, and he has to back away slightly when she enters a coughing fit so that the bones protruding from her body won't injure him. He rubs her back, trying to soothe her as she chokes out the black smoke.

The EMT's push him out of the way, quickly getting to work on her.

_All his fault._

He thinks he hears Warren talking to the little girl. He thinks he hears him call her Sarah.

Logan informs the group that it's time for them to leave.

_'m sorry Sarah._

* * *

"Can you believe this shit?"

Emma rolls her eyes at Logan's retort from her sitting position at the debriefing table. "You have such a way with words, Logan."

"What else would you call it, Frost? That fire was burnin' for over an hour and a half and they hadn't lifted a god damn finger to do anythin' about it. And now, they're saying that the other people livin' on that block are petitioning so that Warren won't rebuild? 'Because mutant housing is a risk factor'?" He lights the cigar in his mouth, house rules be damned, and turns back to the screen in the front of the room. "It's called 'bullshit'."

"It would seem that things are even worse than we had expected. The way the situation has been dealt with can attest to that." Ororo added.

"What I want to know is like, why is John causing such a ruckus with this Morlock Manor thing? OK, I like, get it. You think mutants are the bomb, blah blah blah, but like, then why do things that hurt _them_, you know?" Kitty asked, having heard about the situation when she'd come home.

"Actually, it would appear that the two situations weren't connected by the Morlock Manor exactly." Ororo pointed out.

"Warren told us that the kid lifted some stone from his dad's collection."

Remy spares a sideways glance at Rogue when Logan announces this. He watches her tense as she stares at the table intently, but it doesn't look like she's going to mention their participation in that event.

_She trusts him._

**_He doesn't deserve_**_** it**._

"Well that doesn't make sense." Bobby says, scratching his head. "If all he wanted to do was steal something, why would he wait to do it on a night when Warren's place was going to be packed full of people?"

"Cause," Rogue looks up. "maybe the stone ain't the only thing he wanted."

* * *

Unsatisfied with the 'sleep' that has consisted of tossing and turning and guilty thoughts of burning house and injured mutants, Remy finally pushes himself out of bed and pulls on a pair of sweatpants. Unable to sleep his instinct brings him to the roof for a cigarette and a change of scenery.

He thinks he's more surprised to see Rogue there than she is to see him.

In fact, it's almost as if she were waiting for him.

"Hey."

He nods in reply, coming to sit beside her as he lights his cigarette. It isn't lost on him that she's wearing only a pair of short sleep shorts with matching tank top along with the jacket that she pulls a little tighter around herself (to shield herself from the cold or from him, he's not sure).

They sit like that in silence until his cigarette burns out. He thinks maybe she's debating whether or not to tell the others about him and the gem, and that's why she's being so quiet. When she finally speaks, he realizes that that is not the case but it does little to nothing to make him feel any better.

"Yah saved that girl tanight, yah know?"

_If she only knew._

"Don' know 'bout dat, chere."

"Yah did. The police, the fire department, none of 'em were even lookin' for victims, let alone helpin' 'em." She lets out a heavy breath. "Ah nevah knew it was _this _bad."

"Dat why y' can't get any sommeil, chere?"

She bites her lip and it's a long time before she shakes her head 'no'. Maybe she doesn't want to talk about it. Maybe she's still mad at him. Then again, she's on the roof tonight. Over time, it's sort of begun to feel like 'their place'. She looked like she was expecting him.

"Y' wanna talk about it?"

After a moment, she speaks again. "John wasn't always lahke this, yah know? We were, ah don't know. Ah thought we were friends. Maybe he was jus' nice tah me cause he and Bobby were friends, but either way, he wouldn'ta hurt innocent mutants. People change, ah guess."

* * *

_"Remy, revenir coucher l'amant."_

_He let out a low chuckle as he laced up his boot. "Y' insatiable, Genny." He shot over his shoulder before standing up and walking back over to the bed she rest upon, wrapped up in the very sheets they'd laid in. Cradling her face in one hand, he leaned over to give her a chaste kiss._

_"Only for you, mon amour." The french brunette flashed a sleepy smile at him, rubbing the hand on her cheek. "Do you have to leave so soon?"_

_Genevieve Darceneaux was beautiful, no doubt. The fact that the french beauty was the daughter of an illustrious jewel thief only made her even more appealing to the young thief Remy currently was. That aside, he didn't love her as he may have lead her to believe. Right now Genny was a target._

_A job._

_To prove his worth and place in his family and guild._

_The stone, L'Etroile du Tricherie, laid in his coat pocket. After two weeks of courting and passionate love making she had been careless enough to trust him and not lock it away after undressing for him. _

_Big mistake._

* * *

"People change, ah guess."

Her words resonate in him. Genevieve was the first woman he told he'd loved aside from Belladonna.

Lie.

Genevieve...

he's changed.

"Non. People don' change, chere. People may act diffr'ently, but deep down dey can't change de cloth dey cut from."

They were quiet for a long while again. He nudged her with his elbow playfully, unable to take the silence that left him alone with his memories any more. He'd had enough guilt for one night.

"How'd y' 'hot date' go?"

He doesn't really want to know. As a matter of fact, he'd rather eat glass than be told how much fun she'd had with Warren. Still, he can't stop thinking about Sarah and Genny and at least hearing about her night is a different kind of pain.

* * *

"How'd y' 'hot date' go?"

His cheeky smile tells her he's not trying to pick a fight, but it still feels odd talking to him about her date with Warren. Instead, she grins mischievously before elbowing him back.

"Wouldn't yah like tah know?"

"Not particularly, actually."

His laughter reverberates in the open area when she smacks his arm. "Jerk."

The night breeze sends a shiver up her back, and she pulls the jacket tighter. He surprises her when he drapes an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side and she tries to tell herself that it's the warmth and nothing else that makes her lean into him rather than pull away.

This is how it begins.

Cat and mouse.

Fight and make up.

"Remy?"

"Oui?" He turns his head to look down at her beside him while tracing patterns on her upper arm.

"My date was ass numbingly boring."

When he laughs, she does too.

* * *

"My date was ass numbingly boring."

The fact that her statement was both candid and unexpected sent him into a deep laughter. So Warren might have it all on paper, but he was at least dull and as immature as it may be, it really did make Remy a little happier.

When her own laughter dies down, he smiles at her. These times were far and few between for them. It seemed if they weren't at each others throats they could settle into a comfortable friendship, and maybe (unfortunately) that was the best they could get.

He hoped it wasn't.

He also knew he didn't even deserve _that_.

"Well, 'm sorry it was so borin' chere." The amusement reaches his eyes when he smiles, shaking his head as he stands up. She takes the hand he offers and he pulls her to her feet.

It was coming to a time where he was sure they were about to part ways, and of course because the last hour had went smoothly he knew that this was coming as if on cue.

"Remy, ah cain't stop thinkin' about tha' gem." She crosses her arm and breaks eye contact uneasily. "It's too much of a coincidence that John lifted it after we'd had it."

She's not sure if she can trust him.

He probably wouldn't trust him either.

* * *

_He's cursing himself as he exits the elevator of Genevieve's hotel and takes the familiar hallway back to her room._

_He'd had the stone. He'd had the buyer. He'd proved is worth._

_He'd gotten a call._

_Naturally he ignored it once Genevieve's number had flashed across his screen. He was surprised she'd noticed so quickly after he left that the necklace was gone, and even more quickly connected that it was her thieving lover that had no doubt taken it. _

_He wasn't going to call back._

_But when he heard the voice mail, and the tone in her voice, something in him twisted into a tight ball. Her voice quivered to a point that sounded far more than just hurt over his betrayal. No, it wasn't your normal hurt feelings that had provoked him to return despite having finished his job._

_She was scared._

_He could hear it. He wanted to push it from his mind, but he couldn't._

_Impatient with the lack of an answer when he knocked on the door he went to work on the lock when he realized it wasn't locked anyways. Pushing the door open, he was greeted with most the horrific scene of his young life._

_The room was heavy with the metallic smell of spilled blood, the evidence of which was drenched in the very sheets that he and Genevieve had laid in merely hours before._

_"Genevieve!" He shouted, checking the small kitchenette and then the bathroom. "Genevieve où vous sont, la fille?!"_

_A small noise brought his attention to the open balcony doors and when he finally made it over there his stomach leaped into his throat. Kneeling beside the crumpled mess, he pulled Genevieve's head into his lap._

_Her face was swollen black and blue, evidence of a struggle apparent over her arms and limbs. All of these injuries were survivable, until paired with the claw like gashes taken across her chest._

_"Who did dis, chere?" He asked, his chest wracking with such a heavy guilt._

_He should of been here._

_He should of helped her._

_Instead, he used her._

_"Il a voulu le collier." She moaned in a weak voice._

_"Who? Who wanted de necklace Genny?" He cradled her face, trying to keep her awake. _

**_All his fault._**

_Ignoring his question, she raised her hand to touch his cheek. Looking into her teary eyes proved difficult, but he owed her that much. When he felt his own eyes begin to water he didn't bother to wipe them away._

_"Remy, je vous ai fié mon amour." _

_The pain was unbearable._

_He hadn't deserved her trust._

"I know Genny. I know. Je suis si désolé, je n'avais pas mérité votre amour."

_Once her breathing stilled and her eyes fell empty, he let the cries come._

_Nobody ever taught him how to be good._

* * *

Rogue waits for him to say something. She waits for him to tell her he didn't do it, that he had no part of it, that he was with her the whole time and she would know if he'd been the one who had taken it.

The words don't come.

Instead, he extends a hand to her and for a moment she's about to tell him _ah ain't goin' anywhere until we talk about this_, until it hits her.

It's an offering.

A bare hand. A fresh start. No lies.

"No." She says, hugging herself.

"If dis gon' be what it takes chere, den it's worth it t' get dis over wit'. I want you t'touch me. Become me, let me become you. No secrets, no shame. So we can get past dis an' go on from here de way I want us to, together, as one. Choice is yours." (2)

He pushes his outreached hand towards her again, urging her to use her power. His eyes make contact with hers, leveling her to the core.

No lies.

No secrets.

No games.

* * *

He reaches his hand closer to her, the offer still open.

_Don't call m' bluff._

The scenario of this going very terribly wrong flashes through his mind. If she can't trust him, if she goes through with this, she may see things she doesn't like.

He won't get another chance if she sees them.

When she moves to take his hand dread fills him immediately. Closing his eyes he waits for the contact and the pull that he remembers from their first meeting. In a moment she'll know his darkest secrets, and she'll probably never talk to him again.

She takes his hand

the pull doesn't come.

Relief washes over him like a tidal wave.

When he opens his eyes, he sees that hers are brimming with tears.

"Trust me, chere."

She nods, and he pulls the hand he holds until he's got her wrapped in his arms.

She trusts him.

_He doesn't deserve it._

She lets him kiss her anyways.

* * *

**AN: **

**1 - Uncanny X-Men #385**  
**2 - (Loosely) X-Men #45**

**I'm not going to translate the french. Fact is, if you aren't translating it until the author's notes anyways you'd already confused yourself while reading lol. They were mostly Genevieve telling Remy that she loved him, trusted him, and him apologizing.**

**My fic references the comics pretty often, but all references or even stories (like Genevieve's) are very loosely related. Obviously that was not the exact way Genny died in the comics.**

**Please review and let me know what you guys thought of this chapter, and thanks to everyone who has been reviewing for the past few chapters. I hope to have the next chapter out within three days.**


	17. Bad People

**AN: Hi guys! Like usual, my apologies for not updating like I promised. On the bright side, I am now a married woman and I am back from my honeymoon! All of the extra time that had to be spent on wedding details will now go into my writing. The next chapter is already started and should be expected this weekend. Also, the last chapter got barely any reviews and I'm not saying this for you to go back and to review it, but I'm only concerned that people might not of read the last chapter because I posted it within two days of the chapter before it. So double check and make sure you read the last chapter, otherwise you'll be a little confused!**

* * *

Cutting the engine just outside a small coffee shop in the city, Remy unmounted his bike and headed inside while finger-combing his wild strands. The coffee shop named 'Brewed Awakening' was not the typical place he'd stop for a caffeine fix, as he found it to be more of a hipster scene for mid twenty-somethings who liked to read poetry and drink crap coffee rather than a normal coffee shop for those needing a midday pick-me-up.

Making his way past the worn-in couches and a long line of patrons a little too eager to spend six dollars on mediocre coffee, he easily spotted the person he was looking for sitting at a small table tucked in a (somewhat) silent corner.

"Betsy."

He flashed his pearly whites at her as he slid into the chair across from her. "Y' changed y' hair." He gestured to her now truly violet strands, once a more subdued black that reflected violet in certain lighting. Aside from the hair color, he'd noticed she was doing her makeup in a more exaggerated way, almost giving her eyes an exotic asian appearance.

Exotic eyes that were glaring directly at _him_.

"What exactly have you gotten yourself mixed up in _now, _Remy?" Her sharp tone and glare contradicted the small smile playing at her lips, but still the question was demanding an answer.

"What? No 'bonjour Remy, how've y' been'? What happened to dem first-class manners of yo's?"

Waving his statement off with an eye roll, her features finally softened completely as she took a sip of her coffee. Placing the porcelain back down on the table, she leaned forward on her forearms to lock eyes. "I'm worried about you, Remy. Word is you've gotten yourself mixed up with some very, _very _bad people."

The fact that Betsy is worried about him is a little unnerving. He'd met her about five or six years back during a job for the thieves guild that had required him to break in to her older brother Jamie's home in the US in order to acquire one of his old race cars for an enthusiastic British collector. Not knowing that Jamie, who otherwise lived alone, had family visiting, he was more surprised when he and Betsy had landed themselves in a scuffle; she had proved to be quite the opponent in a way that her skills reminded him of Belladonna's.

The only thing that was more surprising was that said scuffle ended in a passionate sex session, and that at the end of their first meeting, she all but handed him her brother's keys with a _trust me, Jamie won't even notice _that was cryptic, to say the least. Since then, the two had called upon each other for certain jobs, and she'd proven just as much as he that she was capable of taking care of herself.

Drawing himself out of his nostalgia, he gave her a noncommittal shrug. "Remy's always dealing with people of de 'very bad' kind."

Sitting back in her chair, she gave him a look that indicated she was not messing around. Although he wouldn't consider Betsy quite as bitchy as Emma, he did muse that they both had a similar no-nonsense cattiness to them that he'd now blame on their both being British.

"I'm not kidding, Remy. I've heard things about these people. They may be _like us..._" He wasn't sure if she was emphasizing that they were mutants or that they dealt in illegal activities. "...but they are certainly not the kind of people you should be involving yourself with Remy. Trust me."

_Trust me._

His mind wanders off to last night on the roof, and he doesn't fight the satisfied grin that graces his features.

* * *

_The momentary surprise that comes with Rogue letting him kiss her is immediately pushed aside by the absolute joy that she's **kissing him back**._

_It's only because he knows the way this scenario usually ends that he breaks away from her (and is pleased to see that she doesn't look too happy about it) and leans his forehead against hers._

_"Remy never thought dese words leave his mouth, but I'm tired of chasin' y' Rogue."_

_When her eyebrows scrunch together in a look that he deciphers as a mixture of confusion and rejection, he quickly continues before she has the chance to take his words the wrong way and flee._

_"What I mean is, is dat we need t' decide right here an' right now if we gon' give us a try. Cause if we ain't, I don' t'ink I can keep goin' on like dis. Not gon' lie, wasn't fun watching you walk out of de danger room earlier knowin' dat you were goin' t' get ready t' see Warren." He watches her face contort in an annoyed look and intercepts before she can speak. _

_"An' I know already dat it's probably not as bad as walkin' up on me and 'Mara was."_

_Apparently, he was right in guessing that was what she was supposed to object with; he can tell by the way she downcasts her eyes and the spark of jealousy his empathy picks up on._

_He **likes** that she was jealous._

_"I meant what I said, chere. I want us t' leave all de problems in the past and move on from t'night with a fresh start, t'gether." After watching her bite her lip (**dieu, how he wishes she wouldn't do that right now**), he adds, "As a couple."_

_"Ah'm not ready for anythin' serious, Remy. Ah know it ain't fair the way ah've handled our relationship... friendship?"_

_"Flirtationship?" he offered with a cocky grin, amused by her struggle to find a word._

_"Flirtationship," she agreed with a bashful smile. "Ah know it ain't fair, but ah'm still new to this. Bobby was mah first serious boyfriend evah, and ah'm just not ready tah invest in bein' someone's girlfriend right now. Ah'm sorry if tha' ain't what yah wanted tah hear."_

_He thinks about it, and boy would Henri laugh if he knew that this time, it was the **girl **not wanting to commit, rather than Remy._

_"Den we take it slow; we date. How does dat sound, chere?"_

_"It sounds pretty good tah me, sugah."_

* * *

"Are... are you grinning? What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Lebeau? I'm sitting here telling you..." She trailed off as she watched him check his phone. "Am I _boring_ you?"

Looking up to make eye contact as he stuck his phone back in the inner pocket of his trench coat, he gave her a cheeky grin before replying, "Non, I just got somewhere I need t' be. Aw, c'mon now, don' give me day pouty, brooding look, chere." He gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek, bending beside her chair to see eye-to-eye.

"Be careful, Remy. I'm serious," she said, turning her face to look at him. "I don't know what kind of job you're pulling, but you need to finish it and leave these people in your past."

"Whoever dey working for can't be dat scary, chere. De man never even shows his face."

"Wait, you mean you don't know?" Recognition crossed her face. She stood up abruptly as he headed to the door. "Remy, wait-"

"I gotta go, Betsy. We catch up real soon, non?" he threw over his shoulder, tossing her a wink.

"Is this about the girl?"

She never got a reply as the coffee shop door dinged with his exit.

* * *

"Let me guess. You and Remy are officially dating?"

"Emma!" Rogue admonished in surprise. "Yah promised yah wouldn't read mah mind without mah permission."

The blonde raised an eyebrow at her younger friend before looking back to her latest manicure. "I didn't. I could tell by the ridiculous smile on your face. I have to say, I would have much preferred Warren."

The mention of Warren caused a guilty feeling to stir in her stomach. She'd only just gone on a date with Warren the night before, and although it was less than thrilling, he really had shown her a good time and seemed genuinely interested in her. She didn't know how to react if he ended up calling her for a second date.

She and Remy had decided to take things slow, rather than jumping into a relationship, but something in her knew that that didn't mean she could date Warren too. Rightfully so, she'd be equally upset about it if Remy was still '_bumpin' uglies' _with Amara or any other girl, for that matter.

"There's lover boy now," Emma drawled in an unenthusiastic tone.

Rogue caught sight of Remy as he entered the danger room whilst shuffling a deck of cards. Although he didn't come join her (_probably cause o' Emma_), he did grin at her when they locked gazes before leaning on the wall beside Piotr and striking up a conversation.

"He's probably asking Piotr for speech lessons. English is Piotr's second language and it still isn't as annoying as Remy's broken English," Emma continued to joke.

Rogue rolled her eyes, but couldn't stifle her smile.

"Alright, guys, we're doin' a different kind of simulation today," Logan informed the group, calling their attention in his direction. "It looks like right now Pyro is tryin' to stir somethin' up. I don't know what it is, I don't know if it's only him or if there's someone pulling his strings, I don't know anything other than he's bein' a real pain in my ass and that he's tryin' to get our attention, so we may as well train in a way that'll do just that."

"So, like, are we _just _going against Pyro? Don't you think that's kinda overkill?" Kitty asked.

"We aren't just 'goin' against Pyro'." Logan grinned in amusement. "But he is the primary target since he's pretty much the only target we know about, other than Sabretooth. This simulation is also goin' to be a rescue simulation. Last night showed an ugly side to mutant and human relations, which means we need to be all the more prepared to help when mutants are in need."

"Hey, did they ever find out if that little girl is going to be okay?" Bobby asked.

"Last I heard, she's still in the hospital, but Warren said she's gonna recover just fine. Let's get started."

* * *

"Are we only going after Pyro, she said," Jubilee hissed in sarcasm. "Don't you think that's kinda overkill, she said."

Kitty's brown pony tail whipped to the side when she turned to face the other girl, her eyes wide with disbelief. "How was I to know that this was going to be, like, the level of Mario where you have to keep jumping on the bad guy as the floors tilt!?"

"Really?" Bobby asked, scrunching his nose. "Did you think that level was this hard? It took me, like, two minutes to beat that."

"That was a totally hard level back in the day!" Kitty's voice took on a shrill tone. "It took me, like, fifteen tries to beat it!"

Jubilee shot her friend a look of disbelief. "That was such an easy level, Shadowcat."

"Was not!"

"It kinda was," Bobby agreed.

"Stop ganging up on me, guys!"

"Will you all just _shut up_?" Emma hissed, coming up behind them. "Who the bloody hell cares? Are we seriously debating a children's game instead of finishing this mission?"

"Hey, you had the _easy _job, Emma," Jubilee pointed out, looking put out. "All you had to do was help bystanders. Try getting thrown around like a rag doll by Sabretooth."

Emma gave a notorious eye roll, waving the subject off. "Yes, well, if Shadowcat hadn't opened her mouth about only targeting Pyro-"

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT!"

**BOOM.**

* * *

"Shadowcat jus' had t' open her mouth, didn't she?" Remy asked in annoyance as he and Piotr dealt with the brunt of the action. Sweat covered his brow, his pulse racing to catch up with him. It had been about ten minutes since he'd reached into his coat for a card, only to come out empty-handed, forcing him to be more creative while trying to detain their target.

"I do not even know who this 'Deadpool' is, and I already do not like him," Piotr admitted.

"Dat makes two of us, mon ami," Remy said as he tied a bandage over his left bicep where one of Deadpool's blades had grazed him. They'd been dancing back and forth with the maniac for a good half hour.

If asked, Remy would describe this training session as a 'clusterfuck', and that would still be giving it too much credit. It was as if Logan had programmed any possible opponent in the data base and put them in here with them. Once inside, the whole 'partners system' went to shit, and it turned into 'every man for himself.'

The heavy metal sounds of Piotr taking off drew his attention, bringing him back to the present.

In the small amount of time he's been part of the X-Men, he's found that their simulations usually all began or ended in the same way.

Innocent bystanders, check.

Maniacal villan causing trouble (usually, for no apparent reason), check.

City, town, building, or public place that usually turned into a jumbled mess of rubble and flame, check.

A bit cliche, if you ask him. The X-Men may have faced some pretty tough opponents in their day, but this was just so

_so overdone._

No, if you were to ask him, there's no way that whatever may be stirring would go this route. Sure, to get their attention, Pyro may resort to a few fires and all-around douche baggery in public, but there's no way that a showdown of this volume is what the end result was.

No, these days the 'villans' preferred

well,

preferred a little bit of finesse.

Yes, they preferred to fly under the radar. Draw you in with theatrics during the first act before they built up to the big reveal you didn't see coming in the final act.

_Are yah kiddin' me?!_

Again drawn out of his thoughts, this time from Rogue's voice, he quickly follows it to her location. She looks flustered, with her hair frizzing out of her pony tail and a flush in her cheeks that brings up images best left to his fondest dreams.

"Problem, chere?"

Her eyes flick towards him, and it pleases him that a smile pulls at her mouth for no other reason than just the fact that he's there.

"Well, seein' as mah partnah just up an' abandoned me durin' a mission with some serious opponents-"

"Abandon y'? Non, y' got lost chere." His tone is playful, amused and effortless. "S' true. Une moment y' right behind Remy, de next... well, let's just say y' a wanderer."

"Oh, tha' must be it. Yah know, seein' that ah'm at such an advantage without a long range powah here an' all, ah must o' got bored and wandered off. Definitely makes sense." Her grin matches the amusement in her eyes, but it's this new thing she's doing that's caught his attention.

She's taking off her gloves.

"Chere?" He regards her, a curious brow raised.

"Mind sharin' the wealth, cajun? Ah'm gettin' mah butt kicked out here."

She's approaching him and with every step he feels the pulse in his neck pound a little faster.

Thump, thump.

He remembers the sick feeling in his gut when she'd come barging inside, looking for him after her date the other night. He remembers the way he felt when he thought Mel had gotten to her, given her all his secrets.

He thinks of the secrets she might take with her if he lends her his power. She won't like it.

_He_ won't like it.

"Not sure I like de idea, t' be honest. Can't be gettin' woozy out here, y' know." He attempts to cover his discomfort quickly with a suggestive smirk. "Mais if y' real nice, Remy let y' touch him later." He throws in a wink for good measure.

"Ah think ah'd rather do it now, Gambit."

Her voice is flat, no humor left in her eyes. Something is wrong.

She dives at him, hand outstretched, and it's only because he'd been half expecting it that he's quick to dodge her effort. This isn't just a matter of borrowing his power for a training session. No, she was searching.

She was searching for answers.

He wasn't willing to answer.

"What? Dontcha trust me, Gambit?"

"Y' ain't actin' y'self, chere."

It's the next words that fell out of her mouth that made him do it. No doubt in his mind, no inkling of a conscience telling him 'don't,' 'what if,' or 'stop.' A fire lights itself within his chest, burning its way through his veins, tingling all the way to his fingertips.

He grabs her by the front of her uniform roughly, watching as the burning leaves his body and flows effortlessly through his hands until it begins to slowly pool into her clothing.

If he were a better person, he'd be scared of the consequences. If he were a better person, he wouldn't do this.

But he's not.

He's a very

_bad person_.

So instead he charges her uniform menacingly

and angrily

and bitterly

and then

he let's go.

**BOOM.**


	18. Roller Coaster

_If you won't offer your secrets, we'll give them to her for you._

The sentence plays itself over and over in his head. He's counted the tiles of his shower floor at least twenty times and still he can't rinse the memory out of his mind. He's being doused with water that has long ago run cold, but still

still it _burns_.

It burns the vision into his memory, and no matter how hard he squeezes his eyes shut, it cannot be unseen.

It cannot be undone.

He cannot forget the chance he took.

Even as he watched her mouth move and heard the words wrapped in her Mississippi tongue, he knew that they were not hers. He knew that this was not Rogue he was dealing with.

Dani Moonstar

that's what Logan called her.

Her, the one who created the living nightmare that Remy just witnessed. He almost finds it a shame that the actual girl couldn't be there to see the effect her mirage of his fears had on him. He feels a little idiotic that it was just the danger room's projection of what her power could do to one of them.

He's grateful that only the person affected can see it. He reckons it would be a little hard to explain the blinding anger that he had succumbed to, that it was enough for him to wager that it really wasn't Rogue before he did it.

Enough for him to wager her life, if it really was.

* * *

_"What are yah doin'? Remy?"_

_His glare doesn't falter as he watches panic wash over Rogue's face. The whistling of her clothing only grows with the more power he puts into the charge. If he were going to stop, there is only this small window to withdrawal it._

_But he doesn't withdrawal it._

_He lets go._

_He watches the pained look of surprise take over her features just before the grand finale._

_He watches the way the product of his anger grows past its magenta stage into the blinding light pink before it bursts into sparkles of pure, hot white energy._

_And as he watches, he spares just one moment to wonder: __**what if he's wrong?**_

_It's too late for that. He moves just an inch before the sky is raining blood from magenta white clouds of energy. It glitters, it splatters._

**_It's so disgustingly beautiful._**

_The sound is so loud it shakes the landscape of the danger room just before the entire scene fades away._

_He's standing there for a moment before he realizes his teammates are looking at him. He scans the room to find that their faces are all painted in familiar shades: curious, amused, worried, __**Rogue**__._

_He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding._

_"Showin' off again, cajun?" Logan's amusement demands his attention. "I'm guessin' you weren't too fond of Mirage."_

_"Who?" Remy finally speaks, the adrenaline wearing off._

_"Dani Moonstar, the girl you just made fireworks out of," Jubilee says. There's no accusation or disgust in her voice, but instead she's her typical self with a tone of awe, excitement, and amusement. No doubt if asked, she'd explain the scene as 'cool'._

_"My ears are still ringing," Kitty complains as she wiggles an index finger in her ear._

_"Just fer the record, don't ever do that to an opponent in real life. Ever." Logan's amused, but he's not willing to chance not wording his opinion, which should already be obvious._

_"Dat... dat wasn't Mirage. I mean..." His eyebrows scrunch together. He chances one more glance towards Rogue just to be sure that she's standing there. In one piece._

_"Whatever you saw isn't what we saw," Bobby explains for him. "Mirage has the power to put you into an illusion of your biggest fear. It totally sucked the first time I experienced it."_

"What, did she make you think you were in full on ice-mode in Florida during the Summer?" Jubilee snickers.

_"Are yah okay?"_

_Rogue's question, accompanied by the hand she placed on his shoulder, turns his attention to her. He doesn't want to look at her, he doesn't want to talk to her._

_"Don't touch me."_

_The silence that takes over the room is so loud, it's deafening._

_He doesn't regret it until she removes her hand as if he'd burned her. She falters awkwardly for a moment, not sure what to do with her hands as she takes a step backward. She settles with grasping that wrist with her other hand._

_"Sorry." It's her voice, not his._

_The tightening in his chest, the dryness of his mouth, the lump in his throat caused by the amount of shame, confusion, and pain he's feeling:_

_also hers, not his._

_Fucking empathy._

_Breaking her gaze, he takes a look at the others. They're awkwardly trying to avert their attention, trying desperately to look at anything but his behavior and Rogue's embarrassment. Even Emma isn't feeling ballsy enough to glare him down at the moment._

_The urge to get away from all of them, the urge to avoid their eyes and questions, the urge that sends him out of the danger room while they are all still frozen there:_

_all his._

* * *

He steps out of the shower in the hopes that the memory will stay there once he leaves. Grabbing a towel, he wraps it loosely around his waist as his feet pitter patter across wet tile. The glimpse of himself that he catches in the mirror reveals that his skin has taken on a blueish tinge from the prolonged use of cold water.

The last thing he expects is to find Rogue in his room, sitting at his desk, presumably waiting for him. It isn't lost on him that she still hasn't changed since their danger room session, which would mean she's been waiting here for at least the past half hour.

He's light on his feet, a trait that comes with years of training as a thief, and it's not this fact, but the fact that she's so wrapped up in something else that she doesn't even notice his entrance. For a moment, he watches her curiously. For a moment, he wonders what she must be thinking about.

And then he sees it.

Sitting there in that chair, so wrapped up in her thoughts, it's now so evident to him what she's thinking about because the only thing she's looking at

is _her gloves._

He inwardly winces.

"Chere?"

* * *

"Chere?"

Hearing Remy address her pulls her out of her thoughts, and she turns her downcast eyes towards him. For a moment, she's embarassed, second-guessing whether it was a good decision to intrude and wait for him, taking in the sight of him wrapped only in a towel.

"What happened?" The question falls from her mouth before she can stop it.

His heavy sigh and shake of the head tells her he doesn't want to talk about it. _Too bad_, because she does. She watches him silently as he heads to his closet to find clothes to change into. She waits for a moment, and when he still doesn't answer, she follows him and stands in the door frame.

"Remy," she urges, "what happened?"

"Nothin' happened." His tone is disinterested as he pushes his way past her back into the room and pulls out a pair of sweat pants from his dresser instead. "Did y' need somethin'?" He gives her a curious glance, indicating if she didn't, then she could leave.

Rejection fades into anger and before she can catch her tongue, it's running away with her words.

"No, ah don't need _anythang _from yah."

Apparently, this isn't what he expected to hear because for a moment he looks regretful, taking a step towards her. "Rogue."

"No." She holds a hand up towards him. "Don't, Remy, just don't. Ah think it's finally become crystal clear tah me. It seems lahke any time me and you come tah any kind of an understandin', you seem tah lose interest. Ah get it now. Yah lahke the chase, an' that's it. So save it, cause ah don't wanna hear it anymore."

She's a moment from opening the door when he catches her wrist, tugging her to turn around and face him.

She turns and snaps defiantly, "_Don't touch me_."

Recognition and remorse writes itself across his features.

"'m sorry."

She hadn't expected that. She turns her head, avoiding his gaze.

"I didn't mean t' hurt y'." His fingers cause goosebumps as they trail from the wrist he was holding up her arm, finally coming to rest in the crook of her neck. "I wasn't m'self. It was dat... illusion."

It's only because of the sincerity in his voice that she turns her gaze back to his. "Ah can't do this."

She's never been one for roller coasters; lost her cotton candy in the garbage the first time she rode one. Somehow, this ride upsets her stomach more.

He leans his forehead against hers, and his expression speaks volumes. She's never been looked at in a way that conveyed just as much doubt, and regret, and _want _as he was right that moment.

"You can't _not _do dis, chere. We've tried, we can't."

She knows he's right.

Even so, she turns her face away just before he can kiss her.

"Chere," his tone pleads.

"What'd you see? What were yah so scared of?" It's been eating away at her since he left the danger room the way he did. She has to know what was so bad that he'd completely shut himself off from her that way.

"Losing y'. M' fear was of losing y'."

It's unbearably honest.

The coaster _clicks, clicks, clicks_ right above the summit.

She doesn't know how she got here. She skipped the lines, demanded the front row.

Where were all the safety precautions?

Roller coasters were always such serious rides.

"Remy," a breath, an exhale, "yah can't lose somethin' that was nevah yours."

Maybe there's still a seat on the ferris wheel.

* * *

Karma is a woman, Remy decides.

She's graceful, making her way around to everyone.

She's thoughtful, never forgetting who, and when, and what.

She's generous, giving exactly what is earned and deserved.

And she is _vindictive, _always coming to remind you of your past wrongs.

In short, Remy thinks Karma is a bitch.

She must be, because this is just too much. He's positive she's sitting back and watching, laughing her head off right now. _Remy Lebeau? Of course I remember him, the man has a list of wrongs so long that I have to throw darts at it to decide which one to answer for first! _

Apparently, the dart landed on the section dedicated to women he'd charmed, only later to leave.

Touche, Karma.

A low chuckle escapes his chest. It's fitting, he'll give it to her.

Apparently, Rogue doesn't see the humor in this moment, raising an eyebrow at him like he's crazy.

"No, I s'pose y' right."

They were so close. They were so close that, to him, she and he were already 'we'. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, she's right. Rogue's done nothing but prove since the day that she met him that she's not his.

First, she was a girl who belonged to a barstool in a shitty club with a story that didn't belong to his ears. He gave her a kiss, but never got a name as payment.

Second, she was a mutant who belonged to a team that dedicated their lives to a dream that may never happen. He gave her his loyalty, but never received her trust.

Third, she was a girlfriend to someone who probably deserved her more than he did, but even then didn't deserve her nearly enough. He gave her friendship, but was denied anything more.

Last of all, and _most_ of all

She was Rogue, who had given him a name, but not _her_ name.

Knowing all of this, he'd think it'd be obvious.

It's _he_ who belongs to _her_.

* * *

He's chuckling, and god help her, she feels her southern temper about to flare. Her eyes start to flame as he shakes his head in amusement, and there goes that mouth of hers opening before she can think and

he speaks first.

"What's y' name?"

It isn't the first time he's asked. Unfortunately for him, it won't be the last.

"Why?"

"Why do I have t' have a reason t' want t' know y' name? Why does everyone else get t' know but me?"

Why? Because

because she

_doesn't trust him._

Why? Because

because he

_isn't like them._

"Ah just don't know why it matters too yah so much." It's never dawned on her until now just how little they know about each other. Her instincts tell her not to trust him; they tell her he's dangerous. Something in her chest, _not the heart cuz that ain't what this is, _keeps bringing her back. Apparently her chest and her instincts are giving each other the silent treatment.

An answer doesn't come right away because apparently he thinks filling his mouth with smoke is better than relieving it of words. Cigarette in hand, he nods for her to join him on the balcony before he exits. Nevermind that the man is still clad in only a towel, because when the nicotine calls, he answers. For the moment, she listens to the cavity in her chest and follows.

_Click, click, click._

* * *

This isn't going to change. It's a realization that makes him a little bitter, but he shrugs it off because after all, he likes to pretend to be optimistic. Despite the fact that lately he's been a little masochistic, becoming attached to Rogue when he knew better.

And he_ did_ know better.

The time they have is on loan, anyways. It's not like this was going to end well.

Masochist.

"Lets go out tonight, non?"

He ignores her expression, because _oui 'm serious, _and _non, dis isn't a joke, _and don't forget _'m not deaf, but I know and y' know dat y' ain't really done wit' dis._

Not yet, anyways.

She's not his, and time isn't theirs

but tonight

they'll pretend, anyways.

* * *

Mel wasn't always Mel.

There was a woman, a _weaker _one, before her. That woman put too much weight in the beliefs of a man, made too many sacrifices that weren't recognized. It's not like she needed a fucking pat on the back

but it wouldn't hurt, either.

Because this woman was weak, because she'd invested so much

she'd lose everything if this didn't work.

Mel was a stronger woman, and that's why this is going to work. That's why everything was going to play out exactly how she wanted.

Exactly how it was written.

Mel knows.

A hand she doesn't recognize pushes open a door she doesn't want to recognize, and she enters the cold room where he lays. _Was it worth it, your sacrifice? s_he wonders of the weak woman, watching what's become of the man at this point. It doesn't matter that the woman is no longer here to answer, because Mel knows the answer is

_yes._

"Hello."

Steel meets gold, a gaze shared. Words are few, but conversation is plenty.

A leatherbound book comes into his view as she pulls it out of its velvet covering. She handles it like glass with a million dollar price tag, placing it delicately in his lap.

_Beep... beep... beep_ goes the machines that tell her he's alive, but remind her that there's a very real threat that they won't be filling the room with their chorus for much longer.

"Have you come to show me something new?"

She has, and she does. Flipping through pages with the barest of glimpses until she finds the page she's looking for. A hand she doesn't recognize points to the picture she does.

_Beep..._

It's an unfamiliar feeling when he takes her hand, so much so that her cold eyes dart to his face in question. The dynamic is so odd to her because for once it's he who believes in her, and not the other way around.

"I need you to know,"

She tilts her head, no need for words to express her curiosity.

"that I have never been disappointed in you."

The woman before Mel never got a pat on the back, but she never needed one either. Maybe

she wasn't weak.

Maybe, Mel thinks, that woman was strong, after all.

"Tonight," Mel says, pointing to the page again. She can't answer his sentiment; there are no words that she knows to speak.

Steel examines gold, curious because Mel is unfamiliar to him, despite that she is the only thing that remains familiar in his life.

There was a woman before Mel, and she may or may not have been weak. Mel Hardok is a woman who is both weaker than she has ever been, and stronger than she ever thought she'd be. There was no going back because that woman

Mystique

was gone.

But there was going forward. And after tonight, Mel Hardok would like to get to know

Raven _Darkholme_.

* * *

**AN: Yay for timely updates! Thank you everyone who left a review on the last chapter, I loved seeing how people reacted to Remy's actions. I know that this chapter was pretty much only Gambit and Rogue but I promise that after the next chapter, the other characters will get more attention. We're about to take a big plunge, you could consider this the summit of our roller coaster, because our story is only just now really beginning in the next chapter.**

**Please, please review, and I shall update as quickly as these hands can bring you the next piece of our story.**


	19. Marie

**AN: Here's the latest chapter for all of you, which I believe will answer some of your questions, but also give you a million unanswered ones. In due time they will be answered! I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who has continued to review, and to anyone who has only _just _reviewed. Getting those review alerts are not only reminders that there are people waiting for my next chapters, but motivation for me to write.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It's not lost on Rogue that this probably isn't the first time a woman has been standing right here, in this hallway, watching Remy Lebeau slide his key into the lock before opening the dark wooden door to his apartment. It sits like a heavy lump in her throat when he steps aside, gesturing for her to enter. She wears a tight smile, passing him through the entry way.

This isn't how she saw their 'date' going, but it also isn't what it looks like.

After an evening out that surprisingly didn't involve any fighting or misunderstandings between the two, he'd asked her if she was okay with him stopping by his apartment to check up on things.

_'course, no problem._

Now that she's standing here, it definitely feels like a problem.

The lights are still out, but the room isn't completely dark, illuminated by the far-off city lights pooling in his floor-to-ceiling windows. When he finally switches the lights on, she feels a loss for the simple luminescence the city had given the room. The new warm light that fills the area allows her to take in the layout, along with the dark leather furniture that fills his living room. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but this wasn't it.

Everything about the place is clean, tidy. It reminds her of looking through a Pottery Barn catalog, at all of the made-up rooms with matching furniture and perfect touches to every detail.

It isn't until he passes her by, giving an amused look over his shoulder, that she realizes she was just standing there. A sheepish smile later, and she follows him into the kitchen.

"Ah cain't believe yah still keep this place."

He thumbs through a few letters, tossing those deemed unimportant in an empty trash bin. "Doesn't seem smart t' sell it. De mansion might be home right now, but dat don't mean it will always be." He spares a look at her to gauge her reaction.

The thought never occurred to her that he wasn't planning on staying.

"Ah get tha', but what ah meant was ah cain't believe yah still keep _this _place," she says, turning her gaze back to the spacious apartment. "An apartment this big, in this city? It's gotta be costin' yah a small fortune."_  
_

She doesn't want to know where the money comes from.

She's pretty sure she _already knows _where the money comes from, and some of that is sitting on his walls and displayed among his place.

Then again, some of it isn't.

* * *

_The small café is only a brief walk from his apartment, one he takes leisurely while indulging in a cigarette to keep him company. As he rounds the corner, he catches sight of the outside tables and is genuinely surprised that she really showed up. Her short black locks frame the sides of her angular face while she looks down into her coffee, stirring it absent mindedly._

_"Gotta say, Gambit's surprised y' came," he says as he takes the seat across from her, watching her smile as she looks up to see him._

_"Well 'Gambit', when Mel Hardok gives her word, she keeps it." Her honey eyes dance in amusement, and he wonders briefly if she's a telepath laughing at the next words that are going to come out of his mouth._

_"Well, den y' should explain why y' would set me up t' fail if y' intended on keepin' yo' part o' de deal. I know dat Johnny was workin' wit' dat Sabretoot' who swiped de gem from me."_

_She raises her mug to her lips, still smiling as she takes a sip of the hot liquid. "Yes, I have to admit that it must be quite embarrassing for a master thief such as you to be stolen from."_

_" S' kind of hard t' notice when a homme's got y' pinned t' a wall and plannin' t' eat y' jugular fo' dessert, non?"_

_Her head nods in agreement as she turns to her purse hanging from her chair back. She turns back to him with a heavy envelope, setting it in front of him. "Well, that's your full payment for a job well done. You can count it, if you'd like."_

_His eyebrow rises curiously, but he wordlessly stuffs the envelope into one of the many pockets of his trench coat. "I don't understand, chere. Why are y' payin' me if y' purposely messed up de heist?"_

_Her eyebrows lift closer to her hairline, her mouth forming a shocked 'o' before she shakes her head and continues in her light voice, "Oh, no, no. The job went exactly how we wanted. As a matter of fact, I have the proposal for our next endeavor." She shuffles in her purse again, placing the paper in front of him. "This is what we need you to steal next."_

_His eyes leave her face, trailing down to the paper in front of him as he takes in the details of the job. He stops halfway down._

_There are a few things that make Remy a skilled poker player. For starters, he's well-trained in masking his emotions with his effortless poker face. He's also observant of people's tells, knowing when to call their bluff. Lastly, and most importantly, Remy is very aware of when you need to cut your losses and fold._

_This is one of those times._

_"And if I don't take de job?"_

_"You will," she replies confidently._

_"And if I __**don't**__?"_

_Her lips pull into a smile, and he notices the bell on the door ring quietly as someone exits the café to come stand behind her. "You remember Victor, don't you?"_

* * *

"Y' got a point," Remy says, because frankly, the price is fucking ridiculous.

Now that's he's finished checking his mail and putting it away (leaving it out causes clutter, and he hates clutter), she has his full attention. Here they are, in his (awfully overpriced) apartment in the city, and they have nothing but time on their hands and each other's company. It's a thought that excites him and unnerves him all at the same time because _they've never had so much privacy._

And now that they do, he doesn't know what to do with it.

He knows what he _wants _to do with it.

_He tries to ignore how much thicker her accent gets when she's angry, and he **really** tries to ignore the thought of what her accent would sound like wrapped around his name if she had been as heated during other activities._

He's pretty sure it's the same thing he's wanted to do since the night he met her.

Seemingly bored of the kitchen, he watches her as she makes her way back to the living area. She touches the glass of the windows, touching the glittering lights that are so far from her reach but right in her grasp.

"It really is a beautiful view."

There's something so innocent in the way she says it; the way her voice takes on that softer accent dipped in the rich flavor of awe. For a moment, he stands beside her and takes in the view. The city might be beautiful from afar, but he knows first-hand that the city can be ugly. New York opens its arms and flutters its twinkling eyes at you to draw you in, and it knows

_it knows it's going to spit you out._

It knows it's going to take your money, your dignity, and your morals, if you let it. It knows it's going to strip you of everything you have because you fell for its tricks and beauty.

It knows

He knows

They know

He and New York have something in common.

* * *

_"You will," she replies confidently._

_"And if I __**don't**__?"_

_Her lips pull into a smile, and he notices the bell on the door ring quietly as someone exits the café to come stand behind her. "You remember Victor, don't you?"_

_This right here, this is something he expected. Indulging her with a toothy smile, he leans back, puts his feet up, and crosses his arms comfortably behind his head. "Gambit don't scare easily, chere. Yo' chaton ain't gon' make me reconsider."_

_Victor, or Sabretooth, sneers at this. Remy resists the urge to offer him cat nip._

_Mel looks amused by him, leaning forward in her chair. "My dear Gambit, when are you going to learn? I don't do anything without a reason to. Victor isn't here to talk you into the job; I already know you're going to take it. Victor here, he's here to __**help you start **__your job."_

_Something in him changes at her statement. He pulls his feet down and sits up, leaning real close to her face to make sure she understands how serious he is. When the words come, they're dripping in venom._

_"Gambit spent deux years locked away wit'out even so much as the sight of daylight, and another countless years stuck under mon pere's thumb. Don't underestimate de lengths Gambit will go t' so dat he can hold onto his rights of freedom et choice."_

_A pleased-as-punch laugh erupts from her mouth as she throws herself back into her chair giddily. "Oh dear, if only you knew what I know. If only you knew."_

* * *

Mel waits for what feels like an hour.

It's only ten minutes.

In case you're wondering, that's ten minutes _too long. _Patience may be a virtue, but Mel tends to prefer vices.

"I was wondering what face you'd be wearing tonight."

The statement from her tardy guest brings a sneer to her ordinary face, because he knows this is the only face she has left to wear. If it wasn't, it'd be one less reason she'd need him. She wonders for a moment whether she'd still go to all this trouble if she didn't desperately want, no- _need _her wardrobe back.

The answer might be no.

_Beep... beep... beep._

"That's funny, I was wondering the same thing about _you,_" she replies before she has time to argue the hypothetical situation with herself.

A performer's smile shines at her with teeth _so so so _white, and eyes that threaten to mesmerize her if she only lets them. And it only takes a _you can cut that shit out, or I can cut your eyes out _before he averts his gaze, straightening his peculiar clothes._  
_

They enter the cold-feeling building, and she pays particular attention to avoiding _the room_ as she passes because that insane chorus has been stuck in her head for hours, and she can only tolerate so much insanity.

She's pretty sure her guest has a small grasp on his sanity as it is.

"I hear you answer to a new name now. Such a shame. Mystique was such a lovely stage name." His tone is heavy with lament, and it really fucking irritates her because

it's not a fucking stage name.

It was _her_ name. A name undeserving to a human. Now that she was so completely human, so completely _ordinary, _she didn't dare go by it. Her other option was to go by her birth name, but that may prove difficult seeing as she's an escaped felon from a human prison.

A human didn't deserve her name. Because of humans, she couldn't use her name.

Because she _was_ a human, she needed a new name.

And that's how Darkholme became Mel Hardok.

* * *

_Pop_ goes the cork, announcing the entrance of the bottle's red liquid cargo. Rogue's too young to drink, a fact that they both ignore, but she can tell by the rich aroma that the wine is high quality. It doesn't burn on the way down like liquor; instead, it runs its way down her throat until it comes to a stop, warming her from the inside out.

"How old are yah?"

The question escapes her before she realizes how random it is. His age won't bother her, but she does feel guilty for never asking him before.

A raised eyebrow and an amused smirk answer her before his mouth does. "Older den you."

She rolls her eyes, but can't hide the contagious grin that seems to infect her whenever they're together. "How much oldah?" Removing her boots first, she takes a comfortable seat on the leather couch, pulling her legs up underneath her.

"Guess."

She squints her eyes, taking in his appearance as he sits next to her. Comparing his looks to some of the other older X-Men, she comes up with her calculated guess. "Twenty-nine."

He answers her with a shake of the head, pointing up to indicate she should guess higher. This surprises her.

"Thirty-two."

A low chuckle leaves him before he places his glass down, sitting back to level her with a grin. "'m thirty-five."

This shouldn't surprise her, but it does. His looks don't quite match the number, _his personality sure don't match the numbah, _but there's no reason for the number to not be true. Not for the first time today, she realizes just how little she knows about him and

that scares her.

Almost as much as it

_excites her._

And then there is that other feeling that comes over her when she finally meets his gaze again, invited by the predatory look he's wearing. It sweeps in, late to the party but demanding an entrance, and it brings along its friends Nervous and Flustered.

Lust.

She swears his eyes flicker momentarily, swears the red brightens and dims with every _thump thump thump _of her racing pulse. There's not a reason she can think of that's stopping her from kissing him right in that very moment.

Actually, there's quite a few reasons,

but she's willing to ignore them.

* * *

Reaching out with his empathy has become a habit around her. Usually, it's a power he likes to leave latent because he prefers to feel things the way _he _feels them, not the way someone else does. He learned early on that Rogue's not easy to read like so many of the women he's encountered before her, and the empathy is a crutch for him to lean on because he _doesn't like not knowing what she's thinking_.

Her surprise over his age was to be expected. It's become evident over the years that his powers must have something to do with the slower toll age takes on his body, yet still not to the extent of Logan, who simply seems to not age at all.

What wasn't expected was the insurmountable wave of lust that washes over his senses when she catches him watching her. _Dieu, _he's never lusted for a woman the way he has for her.

He wants her.

He wants to claim her.

He wants to break her so utterly and completely that she can never again be put together by another man that isn't _him_. Because that's exactly what she's done. She's ruined him, and he's almost positive he'll never be the same after knowing her.

"Rogue." His voice comes out rustier than he anticipated, but it seems to call her closer anyways.

A white stripe escapes from where it laid imprisoned behind her ear as she scoots close enough that her knees brush his thigh from the way she's sitting with her legs bent beneath her. Now that she's closer, his hand mindlessly runs the odd strand between his index and middle finger.

_Thump thump thump_

"My name's Marie," she says breathlessly, so close to him that he can taste the wine on her breath.

_When did she get so close?_ It doesn't matter, because her admission has done things to him that he can't explain. Her name falls on his ears, and it's such a heavy burden, such a large amount of trust that he is so excited, so fucking excited, so so so excited that he thinks he might have stopped breathing because his body has been paying too much attention to how close she is to remember it needs to breathe.

It tears him apart.

"Marie." He tries the name on his lips and thinks that although she'll always be Rogue to him, he likes the sound of it. "Kiss me."_  
_

She does.

* * *

_The anger hasn't left him yet, but he has to admit that, while crazy, Mel's intrigued him now._

_"I don't really care what y' think y' know, 'm not doin' dis," he says, pushing the paper back across the table where it can't remind him of what she's asking. "Find someone else."_

_Unphased, Mel bends at the waist to rustle through a bag. He's pretty sure she's going to pull out another wad of cash, and it doesn't change anything because he's **not fucking doing this**, but before he has the time to voice this, she places something on the table._

_A book._

_"You gon' read me a bedtime story, chere?"_

_He might be teasing her, but it doesn't seem to matter because when she speaks to him, her tone is void of any emotion other than saddened fact._

_"I can't find someone else because there **is no one else**. It's always been you. No matter what we do, it's always you."_

* * *

Rogue's not sure what's up or down, left or right, real or not real right now. She doesn't know what she's doing, where this is going, or how things will change between them after this, but at the moment she doesn't even know if she can care.

All she knows is that if he stops kissing her, she's going to go absolutely mad.

They've had kisses before, but none of them have been like this. Every other time there's been the sharp edge of adrenaline tickling down her spine, usually fueled by fear of getting caught or anger from the argument leading up to their shared interaction.

This kiss is nothing like that.

This kiss, she thinks as her back hits the couch's arm rest, is languid and slow. This kiss isn't a fight to show who has the upper hand in a frenzied fit of nibbles and licks, but a comfortable submission, _her submission_, to let him draw her in with his skilled mouth.

Don't get her wrong, it's still hot.

It's so unbearably hot that she's regretting the choice of wearing pants and a blouse rather than the dress she defiantly chose not to wear because _ah'm still mad, an' he ain't gettin' any leg_. The only thing she can focus on other than the taste of his mouth and the delectable way his weight feels pressed against her is just how unbearably hot she feels.

She thinks she'll never be able to kiss anyone but him again.

She thinks she'll never _want to._

"Remy." His name is ripped out of her when he trails his mouth away from hers, continuing his scorching endeavor down her neck. It doesn't seem to convey the message she intended, _that she needs more_, so she takes it upon herself to press her hips sinfully closer to his.

The growl that escapes him tells her that her message is received, his face tearing away from her neck to look at her, and the only way she'd be able to explain his expression would be to say that he looks _hungry._

She's starving.

"If we don't stop now..." She watches him pause, swallowing words he doesn't want to say. "I won't... I can't stop myself later."

Her reply wins her another noise, a groan of pleasure (and defeat?), and a positively more enjoyable angle as he lifts her up to carry her out of the room.

_"Then don't stop."_

* * *

_Page after page after page after page._

_All the pages flip by, taken in by his ruby vision. A discomfort settles in his stomach, undoubtedly the cause of things the book captured that no artist or writer should have ever known._

_How long have they been watching him?_

_"What is dis?" _

_Mel regards him with a cool look that does nothing but send a spike of agitation through his nerves. He hasn't forgotten about her pet, Victor, but the hairball seems content with standing along the side lines quietly. He must be house-trained._

_"It's your story. And unfortunately, your story runs into our story." She blinks, which is surprising because he was starting to think she was a staring contest state champ. "Every. Single. Time."_

* * *

The sight of Rogue's auburn and white locks splayed out across his sheets does something to him. It ignites a fire that _burns and burns and burns_, and he's so confused because how could something burn so much when he's already drowning in her kisses?

There's trembling between them, and it's while he's slowly unbuttoning her blouse that he realizes it's _he _who is shaking, not her. He can't remember the last time, if ever there was a time, he was so nervous to have a woman in his bed.

She's not like them.

Months of sexual tension and downright frustration stretch itself across his muscles, taut with the anticipation of what's to come.

"_Fuck,_" he hisses, because apparently he's going much too slow for her, and she can't stand the wait as she runs her hands under his shirt, scratching along the flesh of his abdomen. He jerks away from her only long enough to tear his own shirt off before he's back to kissing her again, nothing separating the skin of their chests but her bra.

_He's going mad._

He wonders if she has any idea what she's doing to him, because he doesn't.

He doesn't know what _he's _doing. There's no time for him to pause, no time to wrap his head around his actions because his hands are doing all the thinking and his body won't listen to any of his questions. It doesn't matter that he doesn't have time for this. The only thought his mind has time for that doesn't pertain to how badly he wants her is

_masochist._

* * *

Her eyes snap shut, and she swallows a cry when his teeth bite down on her lip. The pain is delicious, she thinks, and the way he gently nurses it between his lips afterwards is enough to make her melt.

She's worn layers and layers and layers, _so many layers_, and gloves and boots during the summer and still she's never been as hot as she is right now, partially naked between cool sheets and Remy's body.

A noise erupts from her throat when he moves away from her, only to be replaced with her delight when she feels the kisses he leaves along her stomach. Her breathing is short and shallow, labored because it just feels

_feels feels feels feels_

she's never felt so good.

Her lungs constrict, a sharp intake of breath, and she thinks they'll need to lock her away because if he doesn't touch her soon, she's going to lose her sanity. He's so close and yet it's so far, too far, and _why can't she think straight?_

"Rogue," he murmurs against the skin of her thigh (_how did she miss him removing her pants?_), "if we do dis..." He moves his mouth off her leg by barely an inch to stare up the length of her body to meet her eyes. "...it'll change everything."

Good.

_Click, click, click._

She's tired of the kiddie rides.

"Ah don't care. Ah want you." Her voice is desperate, but she doesn't care because his mouth is suddenly where she wants it, and there's white explosions behind her eyes and cries escaping her lips.

It isn't until she feels it,

the sharp needle in her thigh that delivers a drug_ so cold so cold so cold_ that she can't remember why she was ever so hot,

that she realizes her roller coaster has derailed.

She thinks she sees the expression of such terrible loss cross his features, she thinks she hears him say _y' were never mine, anyways _before the only thing she knows that she sees is

black.

* * *

_Page after page, he sees images that don't mean anything to him (yet), but he can't stop flipping because every single image is him sharing the page with **her**. Rogue, the X-Man, the girl sitting at a bar in a club.**  
**_

_"__You can continue to argue, if you'd like," Mel says to him, "but as you can clearly see, you'll do this, anyways."_

_She turns another page, and the image is chilling because of the accuracy. Those walls, those windows, those sheets, all of those small intricate details all belonging to one place. His home. _

_The only thing that doesn't belong to him is the girl whose hair is splayed across his pillow._

_He **wants** that girl to belong to him._

_As if sensing this, Mel speaks again, "You don't end up together, if it makes this any easier for you."_

_It doesn't._

_He moves to turn the page, the urge to see more of their story unbearable. It surprises him how tight Mel's grip is when she snatches his wrist to still his movements._

_"This is her book. Don't torture yourself. She doesn't choose you, anyways."_

_When she releases him from her grasp, he sits back in his chair and stares at her for a moment. The paper still sits abandoned on the table, and before he knows it, he's looking at the job details again. He's not sure if he can do this._

_He knows he **shouldn't **do this._

_"Why do y' need me t' do it? Why not jus' snatch de girl y'self. Why you even want her for?"_

_"Because it's necessary."_

_Another glance is tossed at the book before he turns his gaze back to her. "Which question were y' answering?"_

_"All of them."_

_He's pretty sure she's not going to elaborate. Mel seems to be a woman of few words._

_"If I do dis, she'll hate me. If I do dis, how do I know y' ain't plannin' on doin' somethin' horrible to her? Dese are too many questions to weigh on a man's conscience for a price."_

_A wicked grin spreads on Mel's face. "Gambit, let's save us both the time of arguing over your morals, because I know and you know you are anything but a good person. The girl will be fine, and she will move on without problem, and again I'll remind you - without you. Her story always ends with someone who is not you. Do we have a deal?"_

_No. _

_This is the answer he should give. He should get up and leave here right this instant, find Rogue and tell her there's a target on her back. This is what he should do but_

_but she'll never be his, anyways._

_He knows it's wrong. He knows it's going to be harder than he thinks, because he barely knows her as it is and still his mind and body call to her, despite his best efforts. The book shows him that she won't belong to him, and that this won't take as long as he'd like_

_she's not his, and time's not theirs_

_but he finds himself saying **deal** anyways._


	20. Destiny

**AN: Hey guys! I'm proud to say I'm definitely back to my regular updates. Not much to say on this particular chapter, but a curious question for everyone: Which chapter has been your favorite so far? Thanks for reading and reviewing, enjoy!**

* * *

_The sense of betrayal sits heavy in Mystique's blood. It travels from the ends of her toes through the __**pump pump pump **__of her angry heart until it pools hotly under her flushing cheeks. It spins bitter and angry webs through her nervous system, leaving a tightness in her body that aches._

_Betrayed_

_by a man she followed impetuously; a man who discarded her like a broken toy when she lost her purpose._

_Betrayed_

_by her own flesh; by her genes that no longer were anything but painstakingly normal._

_It's fitting, she thinks, that after experiencing so much betrayal, she finds herself returning to the one person she has most betrayed. She finds it to be such a beautiful irony in a world full of ugly intention._

_Worn steps creak underneath her feet, but nevertheless carry her towards the door she remembers fondly. It's open, a fact that she would find careless if she didn't know that it was that way on purpose. While this trip came as a last minute surprise to herself, it was likely a visit that her old friend has been long anticipating._

_The home isn't quite how she remembers it; furniture is sparse and placed out of the way. All the while, the house seems to have been enveloped by easels covered by beautiful images; paper, pencils, and paintbrushes litter every surface her keen eyes fall on._

_"It's been a long time, Raven."_

_Mystique is startled by the voice that not only came from nowhere, but sounds so much __**older**__ than she remembered it. When her eyes catch the woman sitting at the small kitchen table, a feeling she might have confused as pain before she learned there was no such thing hits her. The woman she knew so many years ago, although middle-aged, was strong. _

_This woman is not._

_Her friend is small, her vitality taken by age. Her friend's face is lined, the years of experience writing themselves like a map across her canvas of skin. For a moment, she wonders if the artist in Destiny finds this beautiful, or if she finds it just as sad as Mystique does. Her friend is blind, and yet she can still see the beauty in an ugly world, something that she had once claimed_

**_Raven could not._**

_"It has, Destiny."_

_"Let's not be silly, now. My name is Irene." _

_She allows herself a moment to remember the last time she'd been in this very house with this very woman. Mystique had been young then. Naive, she thinks. Irene was gifted with precognitive powers, but cursed with the lack of sight. She would never be able to witness her art, her accurate visions of events to come, and that is something that Mystique is truly sorry for._

_The two of them thought they could tackle the world to make it a better place for mutants, working to prevent the most horrific of Irene's visions to change the pattern of destiny._

_This is before Mystique, then Raven, learned that it's not the world that needs to be better_

_it's the__** people**__._

_"Well, don't just stand there, Raven. Take a seat," Irene urges, her useless gaze pointed right in her direction. "There's no point in dilly-dallying. I know that you are hoping for answers."_

_A spark of hope spreads through her, and she eagerly takes the seat across from Irene._

_"Will my powers return, then?"_

_Irene gives her a sorry smile, and in that moment her hope is washed out before her companion even speaks. "I'm afraid they won't, Raven. While very many other mutants' powers will return, yours will not."_

_She swallows a question she knows better than to ask._

_"Erik's will not, either." Irene answers her unspoken question, anyways. Sometimes she thinks her lack of words stem from the years she spent living with this woman who would answer questions she didn't even know she was going to ask before she asked them._

_Mystique had expected to feel a sick sense of satisfaction at this, the fact that the man who cast her aside would also remain as pathetically powerless as she, but that feeling didn't come. Instead, she again was betrayed, this time by her emotions, for they caused her to feel loss for him as heavy as she did for herself._

_"He's growing old, you know," Irene says, for no other reason than to punish her for her leaving, she thinks. "His looks will fade, as will his health, and he will pass away alone and powerless. I suppose it should at least be a comfort to him that you left his company because he had wronged you, rather than because you outgrew him."_

_The words are meant to remind her of her wrongs. _

_"I didn't outgrow you, Des- Irene." It's been so many years since she used her human voice, not burdened with echoes of other identities, that it doesn't even sound familiar coming out of her._

_Irene flinches so slightly that if Mystique had blinked, she wouldn't have noticed._

_"No, I suppose you didn't. It was my age that outgrew you, replaced by another lover with a different dream to follow."_

_That's not completely inaccurate, and because of that she doesn't have a reply to give. Magneto was not her lover, although she had pined after him, __**oh how she pined**__, but his views of war between mutants and humans became something much more real to her than Irene's ideals._

_None of that matters now._

_Irene sighs, the words she knows she'll speak sitting heavy on her shoulders. "There is, however, another path."_

_Mystique has to scold her pulse for its head start; the race hasn't even started until she gets verification. "For my powers to return?"_

_"Yes, and his. There's no sense in trying to fool yourself Raven. As much as you'd like to stay angry with him, you won't. Your stories never branch away from each other for very long."_

_It irritates her terribly that she's pleased to hear this._

_"Your other path starts with a stone and ends with a girl. Please do not think that because your story is written that it will be easy, because it won't." Irene takes her hand. "And know that this second chance will change you, Raven. And yes, I enjoy the name Mel very much."_

* * *

It takes Remy fifty-two minutes to get there. For the past fifty-two minutes, his skin hasn't stopped burning where she touched him. For the past fifty-two minutes, the vision of her crying out in pleasure has played on repeat in his mind's eye. For fifty-two minutes, he relives _over and over and over _the way she had pleaded for him to take her, to claim her the way he had so desperately wanted to.

He couldn't do it.

_He wants to break her so utterly and completely that she can never again be put together by another man that isn't **him**._

He's pretty sure he broke her, ruined her for any other man, but it's not in the way he had wanted to.

This took _months._ For months, he put this very night off, not ready to end the heist and give up the prize. Instead, he spent months trying to get Rogue to let him in, to trust him, to want him.

There's no reason for that, no good one at least.

He just wanted every possible moment with her. There had been times, many times, where he had started to think his pursuit was pointless and that the book had been right.

That she doesn't choose him.

Every single obstacle they ran into proved to him that Mel was right, that Rogue's story doesn't end with him and a 'happily ever after'. Even knowing this, he didn't stop pursuing her; he didn't stop getting to know her.

Somewhere along the line, and he's not sure where, he's pretty sure he fell for her.

And it really sucks.

_Masochist._

There was the small part of him fighting, urging, screaming _don't go through wit' dis _tonight. With every kiss, every lick, every time she'd whimper his name and prove to him that she wanted him just as badly as he did her, that part would get louder. But here he is, fifty-two minutes later, reflecting on the fact that he didn't, and that's because the other part of him, the louder part, would say

_it's better t' break her heart, den for her t' break yours._

She wouldn't have chose him, anyways.

* * *

Pyro doesn't comment on the fact that when Remy carries Rogue in, she's wearing sweat pants and a button-up that clearly aren't hers. He was Bobby's room mate for two years, he's heard more than enough shit about touching, or rather, _not _touching Rogue than he cares to. Instead, when he opens the door, he gives little in greeting besides an _about fucking time, _and a c_lick _of his lighter before leading him to a den.

Mel's already sitting in there with whoever the hell that wackjob she brought home earlier is. He thinks she looks excited, but really, he's pretty sure the only facial expressions she ever makes are _I'm a bitch_ and _on the rag._

It's not that he always couldn't stand her. At one point, he maybe even respected her.

Mystique, that is. Not Mel.

Mystique was cool. She was the quiet, right-hand-man kind of girl. Mags would give her an order, and that shit was done. Okay, so maybe _he _wanted to be the second in command, but it didn't matter because in his book, Mystique was alright.

And then she became something other than mutant. In all honesty, it was pretty brutal for Mags to turn his back on her, but that's not really his problem. All he knows is that when her time as a mutant was out, she was out. And then he _was_ numero uno.

Then came the war.

Then came the loss of the war, along with what he likes to deem 'The Fall of Magneto'. Catchy, right? After 'The Fall of Magneto', he sat with some really heavy shit on his mind, like for instance

_that maybe he made the wrong choice_. Maybe he was on the wrong side. But that couldn't be, because the X-Men are pathetic (has he mentioned that he really likes the word pathetic?), and while they didn't necessarily_ lose_ anything, they didn't really risk anything, either.

He's all about the risks. No guts, no glory, or some shit like that, right? Right.

So when the human who was formerly known as Mystique, who apparently is now going by Mel, finds him some months later saying _the brotherhood isn't dead yet, so get the fuck up because I need help fixing this, _his first reply is _fuck you,_ and then, _tell me the plan._

It was easier to show him. Her friend's a precog, cool. She shows him an image of shit he'll burn, and that really pumps him up because if there's one thing he likes better than the word pathetic, it's fire. She adds that this is going to lean pretty heavily towards messing with the X-Men and that's when he knows he doesn't have to hear any more

_he's in_.

She didn't tell him about Rogue's part in all of this until he'd already gone to the gala with Gambit, and you know, that kind of pissed him off. Not because he felt bad for Rogue, he means. They were friends, but really they were just friends because she was dating his friend, who is no longer his friend (you're following this, right?), so that's not it. It's that shit like that, leaving him out of the grand scheme, is something the X-Men would pull.

He's better than that. He deserves better than that.

So after that, he really gives Mel a hard time. And yeah, it's not like messing with Bobby, but it's still pretty fucking hilarious. Now that this night has finally come, and Mags and Mel (Mystique again, maybe?) will get their powers back and possibly stop dying on Magneto's part, he's excited.

Because really, the war was just a battle, and you don't need to win every battle to win a war.

* * *

The only thing that makes the conversation Mel is currently having with her guest bearable is the fact that it's almost over. Irritation eats away at her every time he makes a reference to his career choice. _People like him make our kind look like a joke, _she thinks. Unfortunately, she needs the carnival man in order to

well, it's just part of her destiny.

Although frustrating, he is necessary. Just like Rogue is necessary, and Gambit is necessary, and even that little bastard Pyro is necessary.

_Please do not think that because your story is written that it will be easy, because it won't._

Mel is starting to think Irene was referring to the people in her story that were not her or Magneto.

When she's certain that she might have to cut out his tongue so that he'll stop assaulting her silence, the door opens and she's pleased because not only is Gambit here, but he's brought Rogue. He's satisfied his part of the deal, and this is good news, because she was starting to get nervous.

Paths can change. She spent a month visiting Irene, thinking up new intentions to change her path in hopes of cutting unnecessary people out, but it wouldn't work. Every single time, her path would not work without Gambit's involvement.

"How long has she been out?"

She watches him check his watch before replying in his cajun tongue, "About an hour, give or take t'ree minutes."

"Perfect. Follow me," she says, pausing at the door to add, "You too, Mesmero."

* * *

The moment comes when Remy thinks that maybe he made a mistake.

That moment arrives when he follows Mel down the hall towards a pair of double doors. During their walk, he notices just how cold the building feels. Everything about the home is minimalist, from the furniture (_why is everyt'ing made of metal?)_ to its architecture. When he follows her into the room, the moment comes.

Although Mel is unfamiliar to him, the man sleeping in the bed is a face he recognizes. It's a face he's seen in Xavier's files, and it's a face that infuriates him.

_She purses her lips, taking a moment. "It was an incident involvin' the brothahood when ah first came tah the mansion. Magneto used me in an attempt tah harm the human race." She pauses. "Ah almost died._"

His grip tightens around the back of Rogue's thighs, the girl still unconscious on his shoulder, and he directs his glare at Mel.

"Y' didn't mention him."

Mel's looking at him with amusement before asking, "Why does that matter?"

"Y' said she wasn't gon' be hurt, y' said she'd move on fine from whatever y' wanted her for, an' far as I know, last time she and dat homme had a run-in, it almost left her dead," he seethes. "So if y' askin', it changes t'ings."

"You have my word, Rogue is going to be fine. As a matter of fact, she's not even going to do anything she doesn't want to." Her voice is thick with irritation. "Stay for the show if you'd like. Blow the place to kingdom come if I'm lying."

He's not sure if he can watch them do with Rogue whatever they have intended. He's not sure if he can _not _watch. What he does know is he's angry, so angry, and that right now he thinks blowing the place up sounds like a sensible idea.

It's not.

Before he has time to consider his options, something hits him so painfully that he has to clutch his chest with his free hand in a futile attempt to extinguish it. It tears through him, and for a second he wonders if the mysterious man is using some kind of power on him before he realizes

it's panic.

More accurately, it's _Rogue's panic_.

* * *

Disorientation and haze make themselves comfortable in Rogue's head. _Who'd ah absorb? _is her first thought, and it's a hard thought to have because her head _aches aches aches_. Her mouth is so dry that not even if she drinks the Hudson River will her thirst be quenched, she thinks. She blinks away the fog, coming to her senses so that she can

panic.

It comes directly before

anger.

She'll have time for sadness later.

The world below her jerks, and now that she's got half her wits back, she realizes that Remy's carrying her.

"Merde, chere-" His voice sounds pained, as if she's just ruined everything in the world that he has ever loved. _How dare he?_ she thinks, taking his apparent pain as an opportunity to elbow the back of his head.

_Crack_

Contact with the floor comes quicker than she expected, a startled cry leaving her as her tooth pierces her lower lip. She only just registers the familiar metallic taste of blood when she notices the other people in the room. If she thought she was panicking before, then she's pretty sure what she's experiencing is a heart attack.

With a roughness she's hasn't experienced from him before, Remy yanks her by the arm until she's on her feet. Positive that he's going to strike her, she tries to touch the exposed skin of his neck, but he's too fast. His grip is tight, _so tight_, trapping her arms between them. When she catches sight of his face, her breath catches because he's looking at her like he's burning in a flash fire, and that

_she's a snowstorm_.

"Rogue," he starts.

Her spit washes the look right off his face, but he doesn't move to wipe it off, effectively keeping her arms trapped.

"Ah hate you. Ah hate you so much that if ah nevah see you again, it'll still be too soon! Yah are sick, yah know that? Sick! _Ah hate you,_" she snaps, and she means it. She's never meant anything as much as she means it.

His face portrays that maybe he actually has a heart; maybe her hate actually bothers him.

Sadness reminds her that it's been waiting for its turn, pulling strings in her chest that are directly tied to the memory of his hands on her and the way she burned, the way she wanted nothing more than what he was willing to give her.

The tears that accompany the memory and the after-taste of blood remind her that Angry's turn isn't over. Jerking her head back to execute a head butt that would make Logan proud, she hisses in pain when someone pulls her abruptly by the hair.

"Saw that one coming," says the woman she formerly knew as Mystique, minus her mutant powers. "Mesmero, do something about this, won't you?"

Remy's letting her go now, finally wiping the spit from his face, and she's so busy ripping him apart with her eyes that it genuinely startles her when a man she does not recognizes invades her space. She realizes that although she's no longer mutant, Mystique is certainly still strong as she tries to struggle out of her clutch.

"Rogue," the unfamiliar man (Mesmero?) says to her, grabbing her face between two gloved hands, "look into my eyes."

She doesn't want to.

She wants to look away, to close her eyes, to gouge them out with nothing but her own nails but for the life of her, she _can't. _She _can't, can't, can't,_ but oh, how she wants to. Why can't she look away?

_You are calm, now._

There is no man speaking to her, only the swirling waves within a pair of eyes that look into her subconscious.

_You no longer want to fight. _

She _does_ want to fight. Her hands clench, and her teeth grind, and she'd give anything to strike out any one of them right now.

_You'd like to have a seat._

Her body betrays her will, sinking into the chair beside the bed.

_Very good. In a moment, I will give you your next instructions._

Something tells her that this is going to be very, very bad.

* * *

The declaration of her hate hurts more than he expected. With every word, _every syllable, _a vice tightens over his lungs. Suddenly, there isn't enough air in the room for him to breathe because her hate is a fire burning up all the oxygen. He's about to say something, anything, to calm her down when he sees her jerk her head back, only to have her hair snatched by Mel.

When he lets her go, it's clear in the way she looks at him that she's wishing terrible things on his person.

He doesn't blame her.

He wipes the spit from his face, watching curiously as Mesmero seems to calm her. Now he realizes what Mel meant when she said that Rogue wouldn't do anything she didn't want to.

It does little to ease his tension. He doesn't realize Mel is speaking to him until she has already repeated herself twice.

"Quoi?"

"I said, are you going to stay to watch this?"

The masochist in him answers _yes_ just before the rest of him asks _what does she have t' do?_

"When you acquired the Gem of Cyttorak, you felt a difference in your powers, correct?"

The memory doesn't taste as sweet as it once did, but he nods.

"You have to imagine then, for a power as intriguing as Rogue's, what it could possibly do if magnified to the highest possible degree."

At one point, he thought maybe it would give her the extra push towards controlling the powers that, at the time, she couldn't. Her logic countered that it could go in the complete opposite direction and kill someone instantly.

"I'd t'ink it'd be pretty painful stuff. I don't see how dis is somet'ing y' lookin' for."

He's really starting to get annoyed with _that_ smile. The smile Mel wears whenever she thinks that she's so above whoever she's talking to, and that she'll only deign to speak with them because she pities them.

"Right now, Rogue's power absorbs energy. Do you know what will happen if she holds on too long?" Apparently she isn't waiting for an answer, because she continues, "Your body will deteriorate, almost as if you've aged a hundred years in twenty seconds, until eventually your heart stops beating. With the gem, Rogue's power would have the ability to do the exact opposite, if she wanted."

It dawns on him that he's the last one to finish the crossword.

Mel is Mystique, the woman he'd read about in the brotherhood's files. The woman who had lost her powers just like Magneto did.

"The energy she'd create would reverse de effects of de cure on y' genes, wouldn't it?"

"As well as aging, if it works properly." He watches her glance towards the bed, and it doesn't take a genius to know she's trying to save a man who is so close to the end, he's already halfway through the door.

It answers a question he's had since day one, but still he thinks, _why all dis trouble?_ So he finds himself asking, "I still don't see why y' needed me t' take her. If anyt'ing, dis just makes it seem even more pointless."

Something flashes across her eyes so quickly, he thinks he mistakes it for apprehension.

"It was necessary." An answer he's heard before.

Today, it's not good enough.

"Y've said dat before, an' yet it still don't answer m' question."

"You were an easy excuse, if you really want to know." There's that look again that he just can't place. "You get what you want, we'll get what we want, and Rogue will return to the X-Men believing that the only thing that happened tonight was that you and she had a falling out and that you won't be returning. Right now, we don't need the X-Men on our heels, and you are an easy scape goat."

He finds it funny that she thinks money is what he wants. He finds her reasoning even more questioning, but there's no time to voice this because she's already moved over to Mesmero and Rogue.

He spent the last few months of his life pursuing a girl who didn't belong to him, only to give her up for a reason no better than to serve as an excuse for her momentary absence. She won't remember his betrayal

but she'll hate him anyways.

_Was it worth it, your sacrifice?_

In a story where the time he'd stolen with her was the only time they would have

the answer is _yes._

* * *

Time freezes.

There's a terrible vibration beneath her skin, filling her veins with so much terrifying power. Her actions belong to her, but her will does not, and there's something so beautiful, so crazy beautiful, in the way Mystique screams.

Rogue thinks she likes it

the way Mystique screams.

But then she realizes that Mystique's mouth isn't making any noise, and _oh no, oh no, oh no, _maybe that's because she's dead. But it's not, she knows now, because the screaming

belongs to her.

The world is spinning, and the room is glowing because that stone. It _shines shines shines__, _never before has she ever seen something shine so bright. And when the world finally stops spinning, everything is fine.

Because Mystique is Mystique again, in all her blue glory, and _breathing. _

And Rogue is Rogue still, although her body still won't listen, and her mind is still not hers.

_And now him._

Her will urges her, but she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to touch Magneto, because he's so _bad bad bad,_ and she's not entirely certain she wouldn't drain him dry if given the chance. She asks her will not to make her, but her will won't hear her.

And when she touches him

there is no screaming.

For a moment, there is nothing.

And then there is everything. All at once, the machines around the room _pop! pop! pop! _in a firework show that couldn't possibly compare to the magnificent shine of the gem. They sputter and they fizzle, sent into overdrive because they can't possibly read the magnitude of Magneto's vitals.

For a moment, she feels fear, because he has opened those steel eyes, and they're looking directly at _her._ For a moment, she feels naked, and vulnerable, and he doesn't care because there's no way she can deny his eyes of what they see. She closes her eyes, because he can't make her see _him_.

The metal bed frame starts to creak. _Ping _goes the screws as they shoot from their metal prison, simply because they can.

When it stops, there is nothing but silence.

.

.

.

Silence.

When she opens her eyes, Magneto is not there.

Instead, there is a man she does not recognize. Gone is his white hair, replaced by ashy brown. It takes a moment for her mind to catch up with her, and when it does, it registers that this is what Magneto must have looked like at thirty-some, perhaps forty-some years old.

What has she done

_what has she done_

what have _they_ done to _her_?

_Very good, Rogue. You did so very good._

This time, she welcomes the black.


End file.
